


Honey

by SilentWinter



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, OFC - Freeform, Old-Man Steve, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) Trailers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWinter/pseuds/SilentWinter
Summary: Following the events of the Infinity War and the loss of Steve Rogers, Bucky and Sam must learn to navigate the world without him, beginning with a new addition to the team: Honey.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Sam Wilson (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> With Falcon and The Winter Soldier postponed, I wanted to try a hand at writing something new! They’re two of my favorite characters to write. Thanks for reading! Enjoy :)

“Fifty-two. Fifty-three. Fifty-f —“ Bucky stopped counting the number of times he threw a ball in the air after hearing the sound of Sam shuffling down the hall toward his door. When it didn’t open, he started over, hitting the ceiling harder each time. “Seven. Eight.”

“Bro, do you mind?” Sam chided from the other side of the door. “There are only two of us in here now and that’s waking me up worse than Steve doing push-ups in the hall.”

Bucky sighed and got up from the bed, walking over to the door in three long strides before wrenching it open. He glowered at a very groggy Sam in the hallway, “Don’t. Talk. About. Steve. To. Me.”

Sam frowned and leaned against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. “I miss him too, man,” he replied quietly.

“I mean it,” Bucky snapped, “don’t mention him to me.”

“What’re you gonna do if I do? Kill me?”

Instead of responding, Bucky chucked the ball hard toward Sam’s head. Sam caught it quickly. His reflexes and strength were improving since his new “I’m the Captain Now” regimen. “Go back to fucking bed,” Bucky grunted, slamming the door and resolving to do the same.

Life hadn’t been easy since Steve’s decision to start a new life in an old world. Steve’s leadership and optimism was the glue that held their team together. It was always him who had a plan and knew how or when to execute it. He advocated for anyone and tended to search for the good, even when there was little to be seen. The team was missing that now.

Most of all, Bucky missed his best friend and the only person in the world who understood what it mean to be a “Man Out of Time.” Part of him wished he’d gone with Steve; maybe found himself a girl of his own and settled down — but he knew better. Steve would have never stopped protecting him if he had and one lifetime of looking after James Buchanan Barnes would be enough for anyone, superhuman or not.

Much to Bucky’s irritation, Sam was wary of his new position, often questioning aloud whether Steve had made the right decision in choosing him. Even worse, Bucky had been placed in a sort of second-in-command position after Steve’s departure, forcing him to cancel his plan to return to Wakanda after the final battle against Thanos. 

He wasn’t given much of a choice: fight alongside Sam or spend the rest his life running from Nick Fury. When faced with both options, his answer was obvious.

When Bucky woke up the next morning, the sun had already risen. He opened one bleary eye, avoiding the clock on the wall and watching the dust swirl in the sun’s streams near his face. An unfamiliar feeling of dread rose from his stomach to his chest as he opened both eyes.

It was quiet.

Confused, he sat up, listening for the usual sounds of life that Sam made in the morning. Sometimes, it was the stereo playing loudly and the smell of bacon wafting underneath the door; others, it was the telltale signs of Sam’s morning workouts, which usually included jump-roping - a lot of jump-roping.

There were none.

Bucky left his room and looked down the hall to see that Sam’s door was open, but he wasn’t in it. He wasn’t in the living room or the bathroom or the kitchen. Panic set in as he hurried back into his room and grabbed his phone, unlocking it quickly and dialing Sam.

Just as it began to ring, he heard the front door unlock and his eyes narrowed into slits as he took a quick mental walkthrough of the house and counted the hidden guns and knives. He knew where they all were, even the ones that Sam was unaware of.

When Sam burst through the door, his phone plastered to the side of his head, Bucky’s skepticism melted into relief. Then, the rage took over.

He stood there, silently seething. How dare Sam leave without a word? Abandon him in their home? He knew how fragile and paranoid he was. A note would’ve sufficed.

Sam quirked a brow as he studied Bucky’s clenched fists. “Honey, I’m home?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fury’s on the phone,” Sam scoffed, “you feel like sharing that sentiment with him?”

“What does he want?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth, already preparing to go pack. It was likely another bullshit mission that was meant to test them both and their combined abilities to be successful.

“We have an interview today.”

“Ha.”

“No, really this time. Fury says they’re fully vetted and ready for the final step.”

The final step of the interview was a sit-down with both Bucky and Sam. The last one that was “fully vetted and ready” nearly shit himself, nervously sweating all over the leather chair. That one’s failure was mostly Bucky’s fault. His rapid and pointed questions had sent the kid spiraling, reducing the recent West Point graduate into nothing more than a facade. A baby soldier with little experience.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Why can’t they just choose for us?”

Sam put Fury on speaker and his voice boomed from the phone. “You have one hour to get down here. This could be a member of your team. A good one.”

“And if we don’t show?” Bucky asked smugly

“Great job,” Fury said flatly, “now, you have twenty minutes.” With that, the phone disconnected.

“Prick,” Bucky grunted.


	2. Chapter 2

Fury shoved a manila folder across the table and leaned back in his chair. “Here’s the rundown,” he began, “shot expert in all field tests. Showed no signs of stress in the most difficult level of the stress test. Can patch a fallen interviewee in about five minutes —“

Bucky waved a hand, dismissing the rest of the list. “Experience?” 

“Worked alongside Scout Snipers as a hidden asset for three years,” Fury said nonchalantly.

“Enhancements?” Sam asked, looking down at the file folder.

“Beyond the cocky attitude and quick mouth — none.” Fury sighed, “You know, we could skip this every time if you would just read the damn file.”

“And miss out on all of the valuable knowledge you’ve gained and will eventually find useless?” Sam quipped. Even he and his unwavering optimism was tired of the search for a new team member.

Fury rolled his eyes and picked up the phone. “Send her in,” his eyes flicking up toward the two of them as he smirked at their dumbfounded stares.

_Her?_

Before they could ask, the door opened and Maria walked in, escorting a woman to the lonely seat in front of them. Bucky and Sam exchanged a look as she sat down, her posture stiffening. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, a tight-lipped smile etching itself into her cheeks and revealing a set of dimples.

The first thing Bucky noticed was her hands: small and delicate, folded politely on her lap, which was clad in a pair of ripped jeans. His eyes traveled upwards, noting the simple gray turtleneck she was wearing, hugging the curvature of her breasts. Her long and shiny hair cascaded down one shoulder, allowing him to see the bullet shaped scar that marred the bare side of her neck. 

After hearing her resume and seeing her, he had to wonder how she passed the rigorous physical tests. It wasn’t because she was a woman, but because she was so small and looked so fragile.

Her face was relaxed, unlike the seven that came before her. She quirked a brow at the unopened folder in front of Sam, who was sitting there speechless. “Guess you’ve got a good idea about me based on what’s in there, huh?”

Fury leaned forward, his voice low, “We advised professional dress for this step.”

“Right,” she scoffed, “because I’ll be wearing a pantsuit when I’m engaged in hand-to-hand combat.”

“You could be,” Fury said. “Romanoff did many times.”

She shrugged, “Well, I’m not Romanoff and it would seem that’s the reason I’m here.”

Bucky stifled a laugh as Sam cleared his throat, “Obviously, you’re great on paper —“

“And in person,” she added, “but you two don’t seem to be involved much in the process for finding someone to work with indefinitely.”

Fury slammed his fist on the table, “Christ, do you want this job? I told you that _these_ are the guys you have to impress!”

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, as if resetting herself. When she opened them, she smiled, “Good morning, gentlemen. I hope you’ve taken the time to look through my file.” She let out a forced giggle, “I know what you’re gonna ask and the answer is yes. Yes, I do think I’m the best damn candidate for this job. Looking any further would be a waste of time.” She glared a Fury, who was already pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling deeply.

Bucky looked at Sam, who had been stunned into silence, and back at her. He didn’t need a fake sales pitch — he’d sat through enough of those. He wanted to know her. And based on the things Fury had said, he knew exactly how to do it: He’d ask the one question he himself wished people would ask him when he was visibly uncomfortable.

He leaned over the table and smirked. “How do you shoot?”

A sly grin worked itself across her face as her shoulders relaxed. “Very good.”

“How good?” he asked, his tone even and unwavering.

She scoffed, “Very fucking good.”

Fury cut in, “we have the tapes from —“

“Prove it,” Bucky shot back, his eyes never leaving hers.

“As you wish.”

“And not at some indoor range. Anyone can shoot in a 50 yard box.”

“Touché, Sergeant Barnes.” The smile on her face had frozen itself in place, challenge rising her eyes as she stared at him across the table. He matched the intensity of her gaze and smirked.

The brief pause must’ve been too awkward because Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, you got a spot in mind?”

An hour later, Bucky led her up a hill. She hadn’t said much, just followed him dutifully. He was impressed with her endurance and ability to smoothly avoid obstacles. 

He’d also gathered valuable intel about his potential new teammate. When he’d offered to carry her rifle, which she had stowed in the trunk of her car, she firmly shook her head and rushed past him. He extended a hand to pull her up a small ridge and she ignored him. But it wasn’t because she had to prove that she wasn’t just some girl — it was because she could handle it. She didn’t care how she was treated; she had a mission.

“Here,” he said, dropping his rifle on the ground and turning to face her.

She was too busy scanning the surrounding area to respond. 

“You wanna get set up?”

Without warning, she jammed the stock of her gun against her shoulder and aimed just over his head. After a quick inhale, she fired.

Bucky turned around just in time to watch two birds fall into the tree line. He looked back at her in surprise. “Mind warnin’ a guy before you go shooting past his head like that?”

“You were talking too much,” she shrugged. She sat down cross legged on the ground and began methodically unpacking her gear. She lined up half a dozen scopes and mounts, arranging them by size and type. She looked up at him and scowled, “You gonna keeping staring or start unpacking, Barnes?”

“Bucky,” Sam said through the comm system, “are you alive? Is she?”

“Affirmative. Seems our darling wanted to catch dinner.” He smirked and pulled an earpiece from his pocket, offering it to her, “Want in on the action?”

There was something about the pause she took before shaking her head. It was slight, unnoticeable if you weren’t trained to look for signals. “Nah, save that for your real team member,” she quipped uncomfortably.

“Understood,” he shrugged, putting the earpiece back into his pocket.

Soon enough, they were prone against the ground, staring off of the edge of the ridge. She sighed, “So, are my target just pigeons and bunnies? Or maybe you guys have set up some sandbags to fall out of trees?”

“You want targets?”

“You dragged me up here to prove something, so, yeah.”

He fired off a quick text to Sam telling him to send a few drones near their position and looked at her gun. He noticed a haphazardly scrawled word near the trigger: _Honey._ Quirking a brow, he looked at her. “Honey?”

She clenched her jaw and side-eyed him, “Yes, dear?”

His eyes widened as he examined her malicious tone. It was a code for something. For what, he didn’t know. But the way she reacted reminded him of three simple words he himself had spoken for years:

**Ready to comply.**

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to —“

“Shh!” she hissed as the whirring of the drones sounded over the trees. She looked over at him and nodded toward them, “C’mon, Barnes, don’t let me have all the fun.”

Together, they shot the first wave in tandem, an unspoken competition brewing between them. She shot five. Bucky shot seven.

“Damn,” she pouted as she reloaded, “you’re a good shot.”

“That was my job,” he said nonchalantly, following her lead.

She didn’t look at him as one corner of her mouth turned upward. “It was mine, too.”

“You don’t get that kind of training in the Army,” he pressed. “Who taught you?”

“Who said I was in the Army?” She smiled and ran her trigger finger over the etching, “I mean, I was, but shooting was something I gave to them, not the other way around.”

“Who gave it to you?”

Her face dropped and she focused back on the horizon. “My dad and my brother.”

“They took their little princess out and made her a sniper?” He chuckled, “Remind me to thank them when I get the chance.”

“Sure,” she replied flatly. “Does that mean I have the job?”

As the next wave of drones whirred in the distance, he smiled, “Welcome to the team.”


	3. Chapter 3

A few days later, the three of them sat at a conference table opposite of Fury. He slid a contract and pen over to her. “You’ve taken the time to get your affairs in order?” he asked

She signed her name carefully. “Everything except living arrangements, which you said you’d handle,” she told him.

“Well, we’ve got a suite ready for you up at the Compound. You can move in by the end of the week.”

“Surrounded by agents and super freaks — can’t wait,” she scoffed. When no one said anything, she traced her name on the line and gave a small smile. “So, this is real?”

Sam reached over and slid the contract toward himself, signing his own name on the first line. “As real as you want it to be. We’re gonna be a great team, right, Barnes?”

Bucky blinked as Sam handed him the papers. He’d drifted for a moment as he thought about how oppressive living at the Compound would be. He thought back to the ultimatum he’d been given before agreeing to continue working with Sam. “Yeah, except our third member is gonna be kept away from her actual teammates.”

Fury scowled, “The Avengers _are_ her team.”

“Like hell they are. They’re not even mine. You know they only call me when they think I can be trusted.” Bucky crossed his arms and slouched in his chair, glancing at her. “When you decide you don’t feel like being treated like an agent 24/7, give us a call. We have a room,” he offered.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Fury cut in. “Besides, I’d like to let her get acclimated to the op tempo before sending her off to your cabin in the woods, Thoreau.”

She sighed loudly, “I wish you’d stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

“Sorry,” Fury and Bucky grunted in unison.

Sam raised a brow, “What I think the Pouty Soldier means is that you’re welcome at our place any time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.“ She hesitated before looking back at Fury and blurting out, “I have a dog.”

“We’ll bring the little Princess a bed and put it in your suite,” Fury said.

“Riggs,” she corrected, “is a German Shepard.”

“Fine. A big bed.”

Bucky smirked, “We have a yard.” To that, she responded with a small smile, the first she’d given him since they’d met.

Fury stood up, motioning for her to do the same. “We’ll check in after a few days, then you can decide.” He let her walk out before he did, but not before shooting the pair a warning look.

Sam burst into laughter. “We have a yard,” he mocked.

“Shut up.”

———————————————

They’d scheduled their first training as a group four days later. In that four day period, the mood had changed at Bucky and Sam’s home. Bucky genuinely laughed at Sam’s jokes and had even offered to cook dinner for once.

“You excited for tomorrow?” Sam asked from the doorway on his way to his room.

Bucky sat up from his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. “For what?”

“You’ve been awfully charming these last few days, Barnes. Shit, I might consider dating you,” he teased.

“I haven’t,” Bucky said defensively. “I’m just glad we’re done searching for a teammate.”

“Sure,” Sam shrugged. “Could it also be that you’re looking for a little sweetness on the side?”

Bucky threw a pillow at the door, which Sam had artfully dodged. “Go to bed.” 

With that, Sam turned around and headed toward his room, his laughter filling the hallway. Bucky rolled his eyes and laid back down, instantly regretting that his pillow was now in the hall. Resolving to leave it there, he sighed and turned on his side, drifting off to the first restful night of sleep he’d had in months.

The drive to the Compound was comfortably silent as each of them wrestled with their own thoughts. Sam had woken Bucky up annoyingly early, eager to start training with their new team member. Despite his disgruntled disposition, Bucky was excited too. He was sure that Sam was devising a new strategy for their team; thinking of how she’d fit in with him. For him, his thoughts were just that: her.

They waited for her in Training Bay 4, wondering if she’d even be able to find it. Before Bucky could even let out a snarky comment, the door flew open as she and Fury walked into the bay. Behind her was a massive dog with patchy fur. The dog was over half her size and had a strait-laced demeanor. It sniffed the ground around her like it had been trained to do so. When it looked up at Bucky and Sam, it snarled.

“Riggs,” she commanded, “no. At ease.” With that, the dog retreated to her side and tucked its ears. “He’s a big softy,” she assured them, patting the dog’s head.

“Big is an understatement,” Sam muttered. “Where’d you get him?”

“He’s my brother’s,” she replied curtly.

“Damn dog won’t leave her alone,” Fury sighed as Riggs glared at him. “So, I guess he’ll join you today.”

“Cool with me,” Sam said. “You, Barnes?”

“Fine by me.”

She sighed in relief. “So, first day of training, huh? What’s there to train? I’ll shoot and you guys punch and kick your way out?”

Fury rolled his eyes and headed toward the door. “Your call, Captain,” he said to Sam as he left.

Sam waited until the door closed and turned back to her. “Okay, finally got rid of your handler —“

“And replaced him with two new ones,” she muttered.

“— and we can finally figure out how this team is gonna work,” he continued, ignoring her. “Obviously, it’s not going to be the same as it was before, Barnes. But I like the idea of an unknown face on our team.”

Bucky nodded, “It’ll make it easier to gather intel and get in.” He smirked at her, “Maybe we won’t have to punch our way out so much.”

She scoffed, “If you’re placing the weight of the plan on my shoulders, you’ll be disappointed. I’m a background character, always have been.”

Sam smirked, “Well, consider yourself at the forefront now.”

“No.” When they gave her twin looks of confusion, she stammered “I’m not meant for that kind of thing. My job was to get up top and be the oversight. I don’t —“

Bucky nodded in understanding. “Look, I was too —“

“So you understand,” she interrupted.

“I do. But, trust me, doll, feet on the ground is worth givin’ a chance.”

She nodded shakily and turned back to Sam., “I’m not flirting with anyone, if that’s what you’re thinking of adding to my skill set.” When Sam shrugged, her face seemed to pale. “No, absolutely not,” she protested fiercely, causing her dog’s ears to perk up, “I won’t.”

“Okay, no flirting,” Sam replied smoothly. “Why don’t we call it ‘gathering intel?’”

She scoffed, “By flirting.”

“Or using feminine wiles,” Bucky teased.

“I don’t have those,” she snapped. “How did you do it before? Clearly, this team was three guys and —“

“Speak for yourself,” Sam said with a smile. Then, he walked over to Bucky and put a hand on his chest. “Say, big guy, how do you feel about handing over that important information you’re keeping in that handsome brain about Hydra? If you do, my stronger and far more handsome buddies, Captain America and the Winter Soldier, won’t have to beat the shit outta you.”

Bucky peeled Sam’s hand off of him and grimaced, “Don’t ever do that again.” 

The two of them turned to see her doubled over in a fit of laughter as Riggs excitedly licked her cheek. “That,” she wheezed, righting herself, “was the worst attempt at picking someone up I’ve ever seen.”

Sam smiled and strode next to her. “Now, you try.”

“No,” she laughed.

Bucky smiled, “It can’t be worse than that.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Oh, you’d be surprised.” She took a deep breath and walked over to him. She grabbed his right arm, surprising him with the touch of her skin against his. Her skin was soft and she smelled like plumeria flowers. Looking up at him, she dimpled. In a sultry voice she said, “Hey.”

“Hi,” he replied almost in a whisper. He quickly closed his mouth, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“D’you wanna get outta here? Just, I dunno, go somewhere? Just me and you?” She gently ran her fingers up his arm, raising goosebumps along the way. “We could talk, maybe get to know each other better?”

Bucky swallowed dryly and snapped his gaze back to Sam. “I think she’ll do fine,” he said brusquely as he wrenched his arm away from her. “That’s enough for me today. I’m gonna go to the range.” With that, he stormed out without turning to look back at either of them.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky emptied another magazine and lowered his rifle onto the ledge. Then, he took his pistol and fired off the last of that magazine, each trigger pull becoming more forceful.

He didn’t know why it bothered it him so much. She was only playing pretend. He had done it with Natasha a thousand times, even Wanda, but none of those training sessions ever got under his skin like that. 

Before he could reach any conclusion, he heard someone step in behind him, causing him to tighten the grip on his pistol has he slowly turned around. He relaxed once he saw it was Sam, carrying his own pack in over his shoulder. He was alone.

As if on cue, Sam smirked, “She took the dog to the lake. Said something about letting him get a view.”

Bucky nodded and turned around to begin reloading his magazines. “Is that a regular thing? The dog?”

Sam shrugged, setting up in the next lane over. “I know her just about as well as you do, Barnes. But I can tell that they’ve got a bond deeper than doggy play dates and matching pajamas at Christmas,” he said. “How many rounds have you shot?”

“‘Bout five mags worth.”

“Total? Or each?”

“Each.”

Sam whistled through his teeth, “That bad, huh?” Before Bucky could answer, Sam began shooting at his own targets. He was a good shot, not nearly as precise as Bucky, but good enough to only miss the center twice out of 12 rounds. He pulled back the slide and set down his gun before looking at Bucky, “You gonna tell me why you walked out on our new teammate like that on our first day? Or should I just assume?”

“I didn’t walk out,” Bucky deflected. “I just wanted to actually train, not play pretend.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, “Half our training is pretend.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I didn’t like that.”

“Or,” Sam suggested, “did you not like that you liked that?”

Furrowing a brow and resuming his reloading, he shook his head. “I don’t even understood what you just said,” he lied.

“I think you did,” Sam insisted. He chuckled, “I have to ask, why her?”

“What do you mean? She’s your teammate too.”

“I would’ve been fine about six interviews ago, but this is the only one you didn’t veto right away.”

Bucky shrugged, “I couldn’t see any of the others working with us.”

“Working with you,” Sam corrected. “I can work with anyone.” He smirked. “Or do you mean,” he said, making a few obscene motions with his hips, “working with?”

“Fuck you.”

Sam held up his hands in mock defense. “I’m just saying, she’s pretty.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Bucky said quickly. “She’s a damn good shot and has the type of personality we need.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that she’s pretty, right?”

“It doesn’t matter, Sam. She stood out from everyone else.” He sighed and began packing up, prompting Sam to do the same. They walked out together toward the lake in silent agreement of the task that lie ahead.

Before they broke through the trees at the edge of the lake, they heard her laughing as she called the dog’s name. They watched as the dog chased a flock of birds away from the gravel, barking happily as he ran through the dirt. Sam chuckled, “I have to say, that’s a beast of a dog.”

Riggs noticed them before they could announce themselves and snapped to her side, his happy barking becoming alarmed and vicious. She stood up quickly and looked in the direction of his alert. Without saying anything, she knelt back down next to Riggs and whispered something in his ear, causing him to quiet down as they came closer.

Sam smiled, “So he is a regular dog. Can I pet him?”

She nodded slowly as she pet the dog first, smoothing the hair that was standing up along his back. “It’s okay, Riggs. They’re okay.”

Bucky understood Sam’s earlier observation about their bond. It was clear that the dog hadn’t been here originally, but was inexplicably bonded to her through something else. He reached out with his metal hand, letting the dog sniff it cautiously before petting him.

“Figuring that’s the safest arm in case he tries to rip it off?” she joked

“Somethin’ like that,” Bucky replied with a laugh. “So, he’s your brother’s dog?”

She nodded, “Yeah, he got him in Afghanistan. His squad found him in a raid when he was a puppy and Luke says he couldn’t just leave him.” She shook her head and smiled, “That idiot and his big heart. Our parents threw a fit when he brought another animal home. We had enough space and Luke was always,” she trailed off for a moment, lost in thought.

“Always?” Sam pressed

“Soft,” she finished quickly. She studied them for a moment and gave a half-smile. “I see I missed the one training session I would’ve done well with,” she said, gesturing to their guns.

“Sorry about that,” Bucky replied. He sighed and looked to the Compound in the distance. “So, how’s it been the last few days here?”

Her demeanor seemed to flatten. “Well, they did bring a big enough bed for Riggs. But we get up every morning, jog, drink coffee with the team, and then I’m kinda free to do whatever I want.”

“And what’s that?”

“Whatever I feel like,” she scoffed. “I don’t think I have the authorization to leave the premises yet, so I keep to myself whenever I’m not in a briefing.”

“Ah, the daily brief,” Sam lamented. “We’re glad we get those over the phone,” he said, nudging Bucky in the ribs.

“Lucky you.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

She shrugged, “Someone crashed into the grass on a bolt of lightning my first day here. He seemed to like yelling a lot, but was really happy about it?”

“Thor,” Bucky and Sam groaned.

“Yeah, him. And there’s a doctor who looks really tired all the time. A sad-looking girl with glowing hands. And a really excited teenager who shoots spiderwebs to grab whatever he wants from the shelves.” She laughed as she noticed their expressions, “Relax, I know who they are. I just don’t think I fit in with them.”

“Give it some time,” Sam said reassuringly. “Romanoff wasn’t super-human and got along with all of them.”

Bucky smiled sadly at the thought of Nat. He knew that if she were there, she would’ve made her feel like she was part of the team the minute she walked through the door. But he also knew that each of them was still mourning their own losses, him and Sam included.

She and Sam continued their conversation as they walked up to the Compound. “I think I’d like it better if I could actually leave, y’know? What do you think, Barnes? Did you like living here?”

Bucky shook his head, “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” she sighed. She glanced down at her watch. “I’ve gotta go, there’s some other new person orientation or something.” Without giving them a chance to say goodbye, she and Riggs slipped through the door without looking back.

As the two of them drove away and the Compound shrank in the mirrors, Bucky sighed. “I don’t like leaving her there.”

“You know, you don’t like a lot of things,” Sam chuckled, “but I have to agree with you on that.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Cap, you want me at 50, 100, or what?” she asked, looking up from the map on the table

Sam shrugged, “Where are you most comfortable?”

“I can shoot from 200 just as well as I can 50. You’re the leader, just tell me where you want me to be.”

Bucky looked up at her, “If we go any farther than 50, we’ll bring a spotter.”

She glared at him. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“You only bring a spotter when you’re worried the primary won’t make the shot,” she snapped. “I didn’t realize you had such little faith in me, Barnes.”

“It’s your first mission,” Bucky replied coolly. “A spotter is standard protocol, even in the Army.”

She crossed her arms and looked at Sam. “He’s right,” he sighed.

“Since when?” Her eyes snapped to Bucky, “Did _you_ need a spotter?”

“No,” Bucky grunted. “I didn’t.”

“So, then why would I? I don’t need special safeguards or treatment. You chose me for this. Who shoots better than I do?”

“No one,” the men said in unison.

She huffed through her nose. “No spotter, or I’m out. Permanently.”

Fury let out a chuckle, “Well, gentlemen, I think she’s made her point clear.” He turned to look at her, “What do you need? A rifle? Security clearance for the dog?”

She shook her head and walked toward the door. “I need my team to have my fucking back.”

Sam slumped in his chair and buried his face in his hands. “We need to do better, Barnes,” he said.

“At what? We brought her on. We’ve trained with her and her dog. What else do we need to do?”

“Probably make her feel like she just joined the Avengers’s lead fighting team,” Fury said, standing up. “See you gents at dusk.”

When the three of them met at the landing pad later that evening, she was still icy. There seemed to be a hint of hope when she accepted the new rifle, only for it to be dismantled the moment they took off. She took the rails, the scope, and magazine to fit her own, discarding the rest on the Quinjet floor. Then, she sat back down in her seat, still not talking to either of them.

Every service member has their pre-mission ritual. The acceptance of the reality of possible death shows itself in mysterious ways. Some pray or write letters to tuck into their flak jackets. Some make dark jokes to try and lighten the mood. Some clean their rifles and check their gear a dozen times over. Others stay silent in their own right, piecing together their thoughts of what was to come.

Hers, Bucky noticed, was different. She put headphones in and stared at the trigger of her gun, occasionally running her thumb over the inscribed “Honey” next to it. Then, she’d sigh heavily and try to close her eyes, only to open them. She’d pull her hair into a high ponytail, a bun, a half-up, and then leave it loose at her shoulders. And repeat.

They landed away from the target, needing additional stealth as they walked the rest of the way. Sam tried to make a joke that fell flat between her Bucky. 

“I’ll be up on the ridge,” she said in a low voice, nearly startling them. 

“Hey,” Bucky said as he held out a fist and dropped something into her hand. “Comm.”

She recoiled for a second before stuffing it in her ear. “Don’t move until I get up there.” With that, she started up the ridge, only the sound of her boots shuffling along the dirt giving trace to wear she was.

Then, they saw a muzzle flash halfway up. Bucky hurriedly tapped on his earpiece, “What the fuck was that?”

Her voice crackled through the speaker, “What do you think it was? Guess I’m not the only one who thought this was a nice spot. And look! He was alone. No spotter.” She chuckled, “Let’s keep count: I’m at one.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he motioned for Bucky to follow him. The woods grew considerably darker as they progressed further. There was the unmistakable thud of a body hitting the ground only a few yards away. Then, another.

“Three,” she sang. 

Sam looked at Bucky and mouthed, “Crazy?”

Bucky shrugged, unholstering his own gun as he sensed them getting closer to the bunker that was their target.

“Don’t move,” she said, all traces of playfulness gone. Suddenly, there were screams of men as she took them out one by one, falling from trees and out of bushes. “Make that eight, boys.”

“An ambush?” Sam said

“You really thought Hydra wouldn’t be waiting for us?” Bucky asked as he checked one of the men. 

Sam brushed the tree branches away to reveal a metal door. “Not all of us know our enemy so intimately,” he said as he placed a charge. They covered their ears and waited for the blast.

Infiltrating the base was easier than expected. Aside from a skeleton crew left behind to run the show, it was fairly empty. No traces of Zemo or Zola’s research. They were too late.

“Bust,” Bucky said into the comm as they headed back out. When she didn’t answer, he repeated himself. Figuring she turned off the comm, he gave up. 

Before he could catch up with Sam, something caught his eye. He reached down and picked up a folder that looked all too familiar. 

“Hey, Sam?”

“Find anything?” Sam said, as he started up the stairs. 

“You might wanna take a look at this,” he said coldly. He held up the folder and flipped to its first page: a picture of her, stone-faced with the same arrogant smirk he’d grown to like.

“Shit,” Sam hissed. “They know.” Bucky tucked the file into his vest and rushed past Sam, determined to get out of the bunker. Sam grabbed his arm and stopped him in his place, “Check the perimeter.” He tapped on his earpiece and tried to reach her. “Hey, we gotta move.”

Once again, no answer.

Sam tried again as he approached the doorway, stopping once he heard the chaos outside. He flatted himself against the doorframe as Bucky did the same on the opposite side. “I need you to say something, Honey. That’s an order.”

“Twenty,” she said breathlessly.

“Say again?”

“Twenty-one.”

It was a trap. They’d walked her into a trap. Hydra wasn’t after them and their research was never hidden in that bunker. They were after her.

They stepped out and searched the perimeter, only to find that the chaos wasn’t happening right outside as it used to when Steve involved, but yards away at the bottom of the ridge. Sprinting toward the ridge, Bucky began picking off as many as he could with his handgun. “Can’t you fly up there and pull her out of there?” he asked as Sam sprinted up there

“If I fly up there, you’ll have to save both of our asses,” he said. Just then, there was a strangled cry that sounded not only in their earpieces, but also from the top of the ridge. “Fuck it,” Sam spat, activating his wings and taking off.

Bucky continued his fight up the ridge, viciously ending the lives of any Hydra operants in his path. When he reached the top, he saw Sam kneeling over her as he called for their extraction. “I need you to put that damn bird in the sky and get over here, now!” Once he saw Bucky, he motioned for him to take his place at her side. 

“I got up here and she was surrounded,” he explained. “Did you know they still had bayonets? Did you know she knew how to use one?”

She was covered in blood and dirt, clutching her rifle. He moved the hair from over her face, revealing a deep gash across her cheek and blood pouring from her nose, letting him know she was still hanging on. “Hey,” he said softly as he wiped the blood from her nose, “we’re here. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Her eye opened lazily as her swollen lip seemed to curl into a smirk. “Twenty-six,” she rasped, her head slumping sideways into his palm.

Bucky carried her onto the Quinjet, laying her gently across a row of seats as the small team of medics descended on her. When they started checking her for wounds, he climbed up front with Sam. “What happened out there?”

San shook his head and shrugged, “They knew we were coming.”

Remembering the file he had tucked away in his vest, Bucky threw it into Sam’s lap. “No,” he replied, “they knew she was coming.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Sam asked as he uncooked his gear

“We have a leak.”


	6. Chapter 6

When they landed at the Compound, Dr. Banner, his team, and Fury were waiting. “Thought you weren’t a medical doctor?” Sam said as the team of medics hurried past with her on a stretcher

“She’ll need a full evaluation and I wanna make sure they didn’t shoot her with anything weird,” he answered, following his team into the building.

Fury stared at them both with furrowed brows. “We need to debrief. Now.”

“What about her?” Bucky asked

“I think it’s best if we tell her what we know later. There’s no gauging how someone will react to the news that there’s a target on their back,” he explained.

Sam noticed Bucky’s worried expression and cleared his throat. “Look, there’s nothing we can do right now. We can debrief in the morning — as a team,” he said. “We’ll stay here tonight. Is that good with you, Barnes?”

“Do I look like the concierge at a hotel?” Fury grunted, but the two of them were already walking away.

As Bucky walked down the hallway, he heard the unmistakeable sound of a dog’s panicked whining. Following the whimpers as they grew louder, he found her suite. He was thankful that his eye scan allowed him access. 

The door swung open and the whimpering became vicious snarls. Holding out his hand, Bucky stood still. “Whoa there, Riggs. You remember me?” The dog, still alert, let out a low growl. “Want me to take you to her?”

As if he understood, Riggs walked toward the doorframe and stopped. Bucky looked to the wall and found his leash, hooking it to his leash. He didn’t know if dogs were allowed in the med bay, but something told him they wouldn’t care.

When they got to the door, he looked into the window to see where she was. She looked exceptionally small surrounded by machines. Despite the bruises, the usual attitude that hardened her features was gone, softening her face: He watched her chest rise and fall, every so often taking a shallow breath.

Riggs tugged impatiently at his leash and let out a short yelp. Bucky looked at her again and saw her staring at him with a raised brow. He scrambled to hold up the leash and watched a wide grin spread across her swollen lips as she waved him in.

“Hey,” he said curtly as he opened the door. “You’re up.” He unhooked Riggs from his leash and watched the dog bound toward her, gently jumping to the side of the bed. “I heard him in your room and figured —“

“Thank you,” she croaked, petting Riggs on the head. She snapped her fingers toward the floor and the dog laid down next to her. “It’s like he knows when I’m not doing so great,” she chuckled, her voice strengthening.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied, turning toward the door. “Well, see you in the morning.”

“You can stay.” Her voice was sweeter, almost pleading. “I know you’re probably tired and wanna shower, so you don’t have to. Or you can go do all that and come back? Or not at all?” When he didn’t answer right away, she scowled, “Either way, I don’t care.”

His face grew warm. “Oh, um, let me go drop kit and, uh, shower. And I’ll come back for a bit, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said awkwardly. “I’ll be here.”

Bucky took the quickest post-mission shower he could remember and hurried back to the med bay. By the time he got back, Riggs was sleeping soundly at the foot of the bed. 

She smiled, “You’ve returned.”

“That I have.” He stood in the doorway and glanced at her. “Should I sit down?”

“Anywhere you’d like. My hospital bed is your hospital bed.” Her eyes grew wide the moment she finished her joke and her heart rate quickened on the machine. “I didn’t mean —“

“Relax,” he laughed, “there’s a chair.”

“Right, you can sit in that chair.”

He sat down next to her and took a good look at her. “You look like shit.”

She cringed, “Is it that bad?”

They’d cleaned her up since getting her off the jet. The gash on her cheek had scabbed over, but her lip was still swollen. She winced as he reached toward her face with his metal hand, prompting him to recoil and switch hands. He resisted the urge to smile at the warmth of her skin against his.

He turned her face with his palm to see dried blood in her ear and a light bruise that marred her delicate jawline. The blanket covered her from the waist down, but he could see the bruises, scrapes, and stitched wounds along her torso. He tried not to stare in that direction for too long.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed with a little time,” he replied honestly, shoving his hand into his pocket. He wondered how long it’d take for her to heal. Usually, his injuries resolved themselves in a few hours.

She hummed in response. “It hurts like hell, though. It’s mainly scrapes, but it’s the stab wound under my shoulder blade that hurts,” she chuckled as she made a motion imitating a knife jutting into the air, soon turning into a ragged breath. 

“Easy.”

“I’ve had worse.” She reached up and brushed the scar on her neck with her fingertips. “They were after me, huh?”

Ignoring Fury’s directions, he nodded solemnly, “Looks that way, doll.”

“Price I pay for working with you two, right? It’s all in the game?”

“It’s not a game.”

“Twenty-six confirmed tells me it is, Barnes.” When he didn’t laugh at her joke, she frowned, “Are you mad at me for something? Because if I remember correctly, I did exactly what I was supposed to based on the intel we had and —“

“You could’ve died.”

“But I didn’t,” she snapped. Another ragged breath vibrated her chest. “I didn’t,” she repeated quietly.

He retraced the mission in his mind, back to the moment he realized they’d been trapped. “Why didn’t you answer on the comm? And why didn’t you call for help?”

Her eyes lowered to her lap, “I turned it off.”

“Why?”

“Because you two talk too much and I, I —“

“Disregard your own life? Don’t give a fuck about your team?”

“I don’t like them.” She wrung her hands, “Quit using those things years ago. I always figured that if I needed to be rescued, I failed and was as good as dead.”

He studied her for a moment before asking his next question, “Why don’t you like them?”

Her eyes snapped up to him. “Best of the best, right?” she said coldly, holding her hands out to him to show them how steady they still were despite her injuries. “And I know you know what I mean. You understand.”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he took her hands in his, watching the goosebumps raise at the touch of cool metal on her skin. “We’re not just ‘assets’ here, you know.”

She nodded and gave a sad smile, “I know.”

“We’re supposed to be a team.”

“Then why don’t you trust me?” 

He furrowed his brow and lowered his voice to barely a whisper, “Of course we trust you. Why would you think that?”

“A spotter for one,” she chuckled, “and separate training sessions. Not to mention we have to live here in this hall of super freaks.” Riggs let out a whine and she patted him on the head, “He’s not a fan.”

“It’s all just protocol.”

“Well, fuck protocol.”

“I agree,” he laughed. Instinctively, he ran his thumb against the scrapes on her knuckles, wishing they’d magically disappear. “We’ve got a lot to figure out with this team.”

“In due time, Barnes,” she said with a smile. “You wanna go somewhere tomorrow? With me?” Her grip tightened around his hands in excitement.

He looked at her amusedly, “We still have to debrief and I don’t think you’ll be in prime working order by morning.”

A comfortable silence grew between them, still clutching one another’s hands. She looked up at him and smiled, “Your eyes are really blue.”

“Oh,” he blushed, “I guess they are. Thanks.”

She tightened her grip again, pulling him toward her a little. “I promise that if you say yes, I’ll be ready for where we’re going.”


	7. Chapter 7

Bucky woke up to the sun streaming through the blinds onto his face. He was in his own room at the Compound. It took him a moment to remember why he was there to begin with, but once he did, he shot out of bed and got dressed.

The night before, he waited until she fell asleep from the last dose of morphine for the night. It didn’t surprise him that she fought the drug-induced haze, but it did surprise him when the nurses told him that she’d been in pain all night and never called for assistance while he was with her. He wanted to stay, sleep in the chair next to her, and be there when she woke up, but he knew better. 

He ran into Sam on his way to the conference room. Sam took a long sip of his coffee and smirked, “You’re late, Barnes.”

“Long night,” Bucky grunted.

“Oh, I know,” Sam teased as he opened the door. He lowered his voice, “Before you ask, she insisted we do this here instead of in the med bay. She looks rough though, man.”

She and Fury were already sitting there. Her hair was pulled into a half-up, the hair left loose was brushing against her shoulders. The swelling in her lip had gone down, but the bruising along her chin and neck had gotten darker. Thanks to her haphazardly buttoned shirt, he could see the bruises on her chest had darkened too.

“Hi,” she mouthed with a smile.

He gave her a curt nod and straightened up. “Sorry I’m late,” he told Fury as he sat down next to her.

“Well, you already know most of what I’m about to say, Barnes,” Fury said firmly. His eyes looked between the three of them before he shook his head. “And apparently, so does she.”

“You mean my team didn’t want me to be left out of the discussion about the target on my back?” she snapped, all traces of the warmth she’d shown him only moments ago gone. “I think that means this is working.”

“You tried to take down an ambush single-handed without letting your team know —“

“Yeah, and managed to take down twenty-six of those goons in the process!” She looked at Sam, “That speaks for itself, right?”

“Dammit, you don’t need to prove anything! You’re already here!” Fury slammed his hand on the table. “What you did was reckless! It was stupid!”

“It was necessary!” She folded her arms and looked at Sam, “You agree with him?”

Sam bit his lip and sighed, “I wish you would’ve trusted us a bit more, but I understand why you didn’t.” He fidgeted in his chair before admitting, “I finally read that file.” 

“Oh,” she whispered, shrinking into the chair. Looking at Fury with pleading eyes, she apologized. 

Bucky watched as Sam patted the top of her hand and cocked a brow. “So, what do we do?”

“Be a team, Barnes,” Fury said. “And reign her in.”

“Reign her in,” she muttered mockingly.

Bucky and Sam shared a look and nodded. Sam cleared his throat. “Look, we were thinking that you’d move in with us,” he said. He looked at Fury and began his pitch, “It’d be good for our op tempo and living here just makes that target on her even easier to see.”

Fury crossed his arms, “At least here she’s surrounded by agents and the Avengers. What makes you think she’s any safer at your cabin in the woods, Thoreau?”

“You really wanna expend all of those resources when we could just protect our own teammate?”

Bucky glanced at her and smiled, “You could have Steve’s old room. It’s empty, but I’m sure Fury can work something out.”

“I’m not an interior decorator.”

“But you are the director, which sounds close enough to decorator,” Sam joked. “We think it’d be a great idea. That is, if the lady would even consider our offer.”

“Riggs can come too?”

“Still have that yard,” Bucky chuckled.

“Where is it?” 

“‘Bout two hours outside of D.C.,” Sam said, “but you wouldn’t know we were so close. We’re basically off the grid in Shenandoah.”

“Considered and accepted,” she replied with a smile. “When can we move in?”

“You’re still recovering,” Fury reminded her. “How about after that?”

She pouted, “Bruises and scrapes.”

“And a stab wound.”

“I’ll be better if I’m somewhere I’m not constantly watched.”

“Fine, go.” Fury stood up from the table and shook his head, “Reign her in.”

After he left, she frowned, “You’re sure about this?”

Sam nodded, “A hundred percent. But I’m gonna warn you: that guy has some weird habits.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky grunted. “Guess this puts a hitch in your plans for the day,” he said, slightly hoping she hadn’t forgotten what they’d talked about the night before.

She half-smiled, “We can go tomorrow. Trust me, it’s not going anywhere.”

Sam gave a quizzical look before asking, “Y’all going on a date?”

“No!” they said in unison

“Sure.” He stood up and smiled, “Go pack your things, Princess. We’re going home.”

“I’ll meet you outside,” she replied excitedly. She stood up slowly, waving away Sam as he reached to help. With obvious pain and strain, she limped out of the room. Blood had seeped from the stab wound onto the back of her shirt.

Before Sam could start the conversation that Bucky knew was coming, he started toward the door. “Walk and talk,” he said brusquely.

“You think it’s right to take her away from here when she’s like this?”

“Like what?” Bucky replied coldly as they waited for the elevator 

“She bled all over the conference chair, Barnes. She needs —“

“She knows what she needs,” he insisted. “And if she says she needs to be with her team —“

Sam faked a cough, “You.”

“Then, so be it. We’ve dealt with worse.” They walked outside in short silence before getting into the car.

Sam sighed as he started the car, “Did you read that file?”

“No.”

“You should, man.”

“I don’t need to read a file to figure her out.” Bucky breathed in relief as she and Riggs exited the Compound. Riggs searched the perimeter dutifully, taking the lead as she limped behind him. Rifle in hand, she made her way toward them with a backpack slung over her good shoulder. “Is that all she has?” he asked curiously

“Read the damn file!” Sam shouted as he got out and helped her with her things.

She got into the backseat, but not before stopping Riggs from snapping at the air between then. “It’s the first time we’ve seen the outside of this place in weeks. He’s a little nervous,” she admitted.

Bucky held out a hand to the dog, letting him sniff it gently. “You ready to see your new home, Riggs?” he asked, then turning his gaze to her, “Are you?”

She nodded quietly and closed her eyes, trying to let out a normal breath. Within minutes, she’d fallen asleep, only waking up when they pulled down the gravel road toward the safe house. “This is awfully different from that steel box Fury had me in,” she said.

“Safer and quieter, too,” Sam added. He pulled up to the house and turned around. “Your car’s already here.”

She smiled and opened the door, letting Riggs run out into the grass. Pulling herself up with the door, she called after him, prompting him to stop in his tracks with his tail between his legs. “Off-duty, Riggs!” With that, the dog took off again, chasing a flock of birds.

Bucky got out of the car and tossed her a key. “Go check it out,” he said, nodding toward the front door.

She looked down at the key and frowned, “A honeycomb keychain?”

It was a stupid, split-second decision he’d made days prior to their first mission agreeing to move in. He saw it and thought of her and her rifle, searching the back of the rack for the perfect one. The one he’d chosen was a little scuffed, its metal slightly worn compared to the shiny gold ones at the front of the rack - but he didn’t think she was a shiny, perfect gold kind of girl.

He shrugged and lied, “We already had one and I didn’t want you losing the key for our house.”

Her eyes narrowed as a skeptical smile played at her lips. Before she could respond, Sam dropped their bags on the steps and turned around. “Thanks for the help, guys,” he called to them.

Her gaze lingered on Bucky for just a moment longer before she asked Sam for a tour and called Riggs to her side. He watched as the dog seemed to change personalities, his puppy-like demeanor devolving into a dutiful watchdog once again. Once he realized that he was alone, he jogged inside.

She was examining the pictures on the wall, asking Sam about them, particularly the ones of his family. Bucky noticed the friendly way she spoke with Sam; it was sweet and conversational, unlike the cold and short way she often responded to him. She even laughed at Sam’s corny jokes — not that Bucky made many jokes, but still, it’d be nice if he ever did.

“You wanna take her to her room, Barnes?” Sam asked as though realizing that Bucky had been standing there silently for a long time.

Bucky nodded and started down the hallway. He felt strange; he hadn’t gone down this hall beyond his own room since Steve left. He looked over his shoulder and found her and Sam following at a short distance behind him. “I don’t need a twenty-foot radius, guys,” he deadpanned.

“We’re taking in the sights,” Sam quipped as Bucky opened the door.

The room was empty. They’d cleared it out right after Steve left, putting his things in storage as though he’d come back for them. He never did.

She stepped inside, dropping her backpack on the floor. “It’s big,” she noted, walking to the window as Riggs followed behind her. She patted him on the head and crouched next to him. “Do you like it, Riggs?” The dog nuzzled her hand in response.

Bucky cleared his throat, “Sorry that there’s no furniture. We can get Steve’s stuff out of storage or you can tell Fury whatever you want.”

She looked up at him and shrugged, “We’ll make do with a sleeping bag until then.” 

He stood there awkwardly before stepping backwards through the doorway. “Well, I’ll give you some time to get settled.”

“You cook?” Sam asked, to which she nodded. “Cool, I’ll call you when we get started.” He followed Bucky’s path and shut the door, leaning against the wall and listening for signs of movement. “You think she’ll stay?”

Bucky heard her unzip her backpack and started towards his room, his voice low and gravelly, “Maybe.”

That night, Bucky woke up to the sounds of muffled screams. He thought they were his own at first, as they often were, but they continued for a moment after he was already awake. He scrambled to his feet and followed the sound down the hallway to her room.

At the sound of another low scream and wet sob, he swung the door open. “What the —“

She was laying on her face, blood seeping through her shirt again. Riggs paced in circles around her, nudging her with his nose. In tears, she looked at him, “It hurts.”

“You busted your stitches,” he said calmly, kneeling next to her. 

Her face twisted in agony and confusion. “What stitches? Who are you? Where’s Luke?”

His eyes widened as he realized that she was trapped in her own dream. “Where does it hurt?” he asked, first touching the wound on her back. When she didn’t flinch, his hand traveled to the old scar on her neck. She let out another pained cry and swatted him away.

“Help,” she whispered. She was still for a moment as her eyes closed and she drifted back to sleep. 

He went to the bathroom for the med kit and came back to see her still asleep. “Hey,” he whispered, gently shaking her.

The agony and pain from minutes before had disappeared, replaced by sleepiness. “What’re you doing here?”

“You were,” he began. Then, he stopped himself. “I was checking on you and saw you ripped your stitches again.”

She looked down at the bloody shirt and groaned, “Dammit.”

“It’s fine. I can help — if you want me to.”

She nodded and sat up slowly. She reached back to the middle of her shirt and pulled it upwards, showing him the gash under her shoulder blade. All of the skin seemed to fuse except for the part that was bleeding. 

Reaching for the antiseptic and a rag, he smiled. “This might sting.”

“Worse than — ah,” she hissed. “Why are you awake?”

He shrugged, “I don’t sleep much.” He surveyed the damage and sighed, “Looks like it’s only two stitches, but we can probably get away with one. I can remove a few, if you want.”

She nodded and laughed, “One less reason to kick me off the team.”

He shook his head, “Why are you so convinced we’re kicking you from the team?”

She turned around as he threaded a needle and smirked, “Well, I’m currently bleeding out onto a sleeping bag. Who knows when I’ll be ready for a mission again?” She rested her head against her knees and braced for the impending stitch. “I can’t keep up with you guys.”

He quietly stitched her wound and shrugged, “You’ll get there.” Pulling out the thread from the healed parts of her wound, he noticed she wasn’t making a sound. No hisses of pain or quiet curses under her breath. He put the needle back into the kit and pulled her shirt back down. When his hand barely brushed her skin, he saw the goosebumps rise across her back. “But not tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s what teammates do,” he replied, standing up and heading toward the door.

“Meet me at the car around 7?” she called after him

“See you then.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: War scenes and PTSD; most of this stuff will be alluded to later on, but this chapter expands on her backstory.
> 
> Thanks for giving this story a chance!

The first hour of the trip was spent in awkward silence, only interrupted by her occasional wet cough that Bucky attributed to the wound in her back. With he traveled with Sam, he didn’t need to strike up a conversation since the latter took most of that responsibility. She didn’t even listen to music.

When she finally did speak, it nearly startled him. “D’you think Sam will be okay with Riggs by himself?” she asked

“Of course,” he replied, “Sam can watch a dog.”

“Riggs is special.”

“You said he’s your brother’s?”

“Yep.” She shifted uncomfortably and focused on the road. “I’m just the stand-in.”

Bucky scoffed, “I dunno about that — he seems really bonded to you.” He watched the corners of her mouth fight the urge to smile and hid his as well. “So, I hate to be that guy, but where are we going?”

She glanced at him, “What, Barnes? Afraid of the unknown?”

“I’m not afraid of anything,” he lied as convincingly as he could muster. 

“Me neither.” He could tell she was lying too. She suddenly laughed, “You know the baseball cap, leather jacket, and gloves thing doesn’t really hide you well, right?”

He faked an offended gesture and gasped, “Alright, no more questions.”

“Oh, very ‘Winter Soldier’ of you.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re a punk.”

“And you’re a jerk,” she replied with a wide grin.

An image of Steve flashed through his mind, triggered by their new, but all-too-familiar exchange. He wondered if Steve knew about their new team member or if he’d had a hand in Fury’s choice. Aside from the obvious differences, she was so much like him. All three of them, actually. She had Sam’s fresh sense of humor, Steve’s penchant for speaking his mind, and Bucky’s frequent consumption by his own demons. 

When she pulled off at the exit toward Arlington National Cemetery, his brows furrowed in confusion. “What’re we doing here?”

“There’s some people I want you to meet.” 

She continued with the cryptic answers as they parked and walked through security. With her limping, he had to slow his usual pace, but she tried her best to move quickly. When the security guard greeted her with familiarity and waved them through, he quirked a brow.

“Is that who I’m meeting?” He said, reaching to grab a map.

“No, and you don’t need one of those,” she replied, already heading toward the visitor’s center’s exit. 

He jogged to catch up with her and matched her pace, walking quietly alongside her. “You come here often?”

“I used to come straight here after every deployment. Now I try to get here as often as I can - sometimes it’s once a month, other it’s four,” she said quietly. “I know we debrief and stuff, but it’s the only thing I’m not willing to give up to be on your team.” She stopped walking and locked eyes with him, her voice still quiet, “I also know you have a lot of questions, but I promise I’ll make a little more sense today.”

With a small nod, he extended his gloved hand to her. When she took it, he smiled. “Lead the way.”

Section 60 of Arlington National Cemetery was unlike the rest. There were far more visitors, flowers, and decorations. Quiet, one-sided conversations between spouses, old friends, and families created a quiet hum in Bucky’s ears.

She nudged him to look at a woman with two boys sitting near a headstone. She whispered, “That’s Georgia. Her husband died in Iraq when she was pregnant and their oldest was two. They’ve all grown so much.” She waved at her, which was returned with a smile.

Another woman called to them from a few sites over with a cheery smile. “Hey, you!”

“Hey, ‘Li!” she called back with a wave. She turned to whisper to Bucky, “That’s Aaliyah. Her husband Brian died in Afghanistan. She’s found someone, but she still comes here to talk to him sometimes.”

“You okay?” Aaliyah asked with concern, noticing her limping steps

She waved a hand in the air and nodded in amusement, “Another day in paradise.”

“You and your secrets,” Aaliyah said, shaking her head. Her face lit up once she noticed Bucky. “You brought a friend today!” She pointed to Bucky excitedly, “Good for you! Take care of her, okay?”

She scrambled to let go of his hand and shook her head, “No, ‘Li, we just work —“

“I’ll try my best,” Bucky interrupted. When she glared at him, he shrugged and lowered his voice, “Just didn’t feel right dashing dreams here. Are these the people you wanted me to meet?”

She shook her head as they came to a stop in front of some headstones. “No, these are.” She reached out and touched one with gentle fondness.

He looked down at the two headstones in front of them, studying them for a moment before turning his gaze toward her. “They have —“

“The same last name,” she finished matter-of-factly.

“As you,” he added warily.

She sighed and seemed to steel herself before explaining, “James, this is my father.” She pointed to the other grave, “And this is my brother, Luke.”

Dead. Her father and brother were dead. Was that in the file they’d never read? She spoke of them in the present tense. It seemed to make sense: the vague explanations, the dog, the silence. She never wanted them to know.

“They’ve had visitors,” he said, noting the nickels and dimes on the top of the two graves. 

She nodded and reached into her pocket to pull out two quarters, placing one on top of the stacks that were already there. She kissed her thumb and pressed it to the top of each stack. “I’m sure you know what those are for, right?”

He paused for a moment, realizing that she was answering as many questions as she could with her facial expressions. “You were there when they died.”

“We served together,” she said wistfully. “Luke and I enlisted as soon as we could. He wanted to be a hero and I wanted to be like him and dad.” She shook her head, “We were inseparable, even on deployments.”

He studied the date on the headstone for a moment and realized something. “Twins?”

She nodded, “Damn near identical. He always looked out for me growing up and as soon as I started with the Scouts, I wanted to return the favor.”

“And your dad?”

She smiled softly, “A career intelligence soldier. They wanted him to work at the Pentagon, but he wanted one more tour. One more tour with his kids.” Her brows knitted together as her face screwed up to keep herself from crying.

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Bucky said. 

“We had a month left and the missions started winding down as they prepped for the next rotation,” she continued, disregarding him. “Dad pulled us into Command and said he had some intel and it was hot. They needed their best on this one. One last mission and we could go home.”

“You patrolled together?”

“They did,” she laughed. “I set up with the others on rooftops and hills. Dad didn’t like his princess too close to the action.”

Bucky smiled, “I bet you loved that.”

She rolled her eyes and huffed through her nose before her face fell again. Her eyes traveled somewhere distant as she recounted their story. “It was standard op procedure: fight our way in, get the bad guys, go home. We thought it’d be easy.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“They led us into an ambush. We were outnumbered. I set up above, ready to go. I saw one, then ten, then twenty. They came from everywhere and I shot as fast and hard as I could. Luke took up position behind the door of a humvee. Dad got out.” She swallowed hard. “I had the guy with the rocket launcher in my sights.” Her gaze grew distant as she continued, “It was an easy shot. He was in the open. But before I pulled the trigger,” her voice trailed off as she grazed the scar on her neck with her fingers, “I made a mistake — probably too much adrenaline. And I guess I stuck my neck out too far and I couldn’t save them.”

“Someone had your back though, right?”

She hummed in response. “I went and found them in the tent. ID’d them and tried to wait with them until their flight, but they pulled me immediately for a mission report,” she said, her voice growing quiet. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Bucky watched as she blinked back tears. Guilt twisted her delicate features the same way it did to Steve when he thought of what had happened to people he couldn’t save. So he said the only thing he could think of: “It wasn’t your fault.”

She let out a dark laugh and shook her head. “Tell that to my mother.”

“She couldn’t have blamed you for that.”

“Oh, she did. And when it came time for death benefits, she accused me of forging the paperwork to give myself half of my dad’s and all of Luke’s. He and I always joked that we’d do that and go down together. So, you know what I did?” she said angrily, “I left the checks in her mailbox and signed up for another tour. And then the next. Got out of the Army, found a new job - Haven’t seen her since.”

“So you’ve been fighting ever since?”

“In between a few odd jobs,” she shrugged. “I bartended once for like, two weeks.”

“That’s it?”

“I was fired.”

“Why?”

“Some guy called me ‘Honey,’ so I broke a bottle over his head.”

“Is that what they called you in the Army?”

She smiled, “It was always a joke with my dad. No matter how badass I was, he’d still call me that.” She changed her voice to imitate him. “You got that target, honey? I’ve got your six, honey.”

“That’s very cool.”

Her eyes welled up with tears. “The last call he made over the radio was ‘Light ‘em up, honey.’ And then, I went down. And they died.”

“You didn’t have to bring me here and tell me all of this,” he said.

She bit her lip, “I know, but I wanted to. And I’m glad I did. Having someone else with you makes this all seem less —“

“Heavy?”

She nodded, “Usually, I debrief with them on my own, tell them how things went.” She turned to the two graves and smiled, “Plus twenty confirmed. Got stabbed and banged up pretty bad, though.”

Bucky smiled and added, “She held her own pretty well. It was pretty badass.”

Her face lit up with a grin, “Thank you.” She cupped his right hand with her left, the sudden touch sending warm chills through his body. He could see her grimacing at the sudden movement. “So, if you’re not too tired, it’s still pretty early in the day and there’s like, a million cool places to go in D.C.”

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to escape and spend the entire day with her in hopes that she’d keep smiling. But when he looked at the bruises on her body and the cut on her lip, he sighed, “Did you bring the pain meds?”

Her face fell, “No.”

“How about we pick up some food and go home to Sam and Riggs?” When she yawned, he added, “I’ll drive.”

She quirked a brow and smiled, “Yeah, let’s go home.” She tugged him forward back down the path, but not before he glanced at her father’s grave one last time.

The name seemed so familiar.


	9. Chapter 9

She slept the entire way home, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the faint recognition of her father’s name. It was a common name, but he was sure he’d met him before.

“How was the drive?” Sam asked as they walked up the driveway. He was standing in the yard watching Riggs chase Red Wing around.

“Long,” she replied as she limped past him and into the house, but not without briefly hugging him on her way in. “Thanks for keeping Riggs happy,” she called over her shoulder.

“Any time,” Sam called into the house. He sat down on the steps and looked at Bucky, waiting for the details. “So, what’d you learn?”

“Did you know her dad and brother were dead?”

“I told you to read the file,” Sam sighed.

Bucky lowered his voice, “I think I met her dad before.”

Sam checked over his shoulder and heard the shower running. “As the past or present Winter Soldier?” he asked quietly, landing Red Wing and waving Riggs over. The dog bounded happily to his side.

“I dunno.”

“That’s something they’d catch in screening,” Sam asserted, ruffling Riggs’s ears. “Anything else happen?”

“I pulled over on the way home,” Bucky said, extended a hand for Riggs to sniff. “I thought we were being followed, but they kept driving.”

“Well, I think a little paranoia is fair right now. She’s still getting used to all of this,” Sam said, waving his hand in air. “She doesn’t have complete freedom anymore. None of us do.” His grinned mischievously, “And what about you and her?”

“What about me and her?”

Sam leaned back on his elbows and teased, “Don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You’ve been into her since she interviewed.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not ‘into her.’ I’m intrigued by her.”

Sam chuckled and stood up, offering a hand. “Based on my observations, she’s ‘intrigued’ by you too,” he said, pulling Bucky up before heading inside.

Bucky followed him, still speaking in a hushed tone, “I’m not the one she’s cooking with and hugging when she gets home.”

“And _I’m_ not the one she’s taking on day trips and staying up late with.”

“Are you guys talking about me?” she asked from behind them, standing in the middle of the hall in her towel with her arms crossed across her chest

Both of them looked away awkwardly. “Okay,” Sam said, “new rule: clothes on in common areas.”

“The hallway is a common area?” she quipped

Still not looking, Bucky nodded, “It’s common in that it’s the only one. So, yes.”

She laughed, “Fine.”

The door to her room shut and they let out a sigh of a relief. Sam looked to Bucky and burst into laughter, “You are bright red, my friend!”

Bucky stumbled through his excuse, “She was in a towel!”

“I’ve come out in a towel and you’ve never batted an eye.”

“If you looked like that, maybe I would,” Bucky chuckled. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, “Is it obvious?”

Before Sam could answer, both of their cellphones started ringing. Sam rolled his eyes when he looked at the screen: Nick Fury.

“It’s been one day,” Sam groaned as soon as he answered. “We have a deal: no calls within three days of a mission.”

“Fine, let her sleep on the floor,” Fury replied. “Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

Bucky cleared his throat, “You have her stuff?”

“It’s on its way now.”

Riggs nudged Bucky’s hand with his wet nose and seemed to glare at him. “And the bed for Riggs?” he asked, patting the dog on the head

“Yes,” Fury grunted, “the full mutt suite is on the jet, too.”

“Why didn’t you call her and tell her?”

“I missed you both so much that I had to give you a ring,” Fury replied sarcastically. “And I wanted to check on things.”

“Everything is fine,” Sam replied bluntly.

She walked out, fully clothed, and sat down on the couch. “Hi, Fury!” she called into the air as Riggs cemented himself to her side

“Tell her to go and meet the jet,” Fury said quietly.

Sam put on his best fake smile, “Your stuff’s about to be outside. Wanna go meet the jet when it lands?” 

The curious look on her face made Bucky shift nervously, his phone still plastered to his ear. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it and shook her head. “C’mon, Riggs, there’s secret shit we’re still not trusted with,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. 

“Sounds like everything is going just fine,” Fury deadpanned as she left.

Sam leaned against the wall and sighed, “Alright, what’s the real reason you called?”

“We have an opportunity to help her heal faster. If Banner’s calculations are correct, she’ll be up and moving better than before.”

“What is it?” Bucky asked with suspicion 

“Three injections over the next two days, starting today.”

“No,” Bucky snapped, “she’ll be fine on her own.”

“Wait a minute, Barnes,” Sam warned. “What’re these injections?”

Fury explained that the serum was engineered to mimic the regeneration that Bucky and Steve were capable of doing. “It’s solely for healing, and it’s a one-time deal,” he finished.

“So, you won’t alter her DNA or anything?” Sam asked, glancing at Bucky with a hopeful expression

“Not at all.”

“Again, I ask: why didn’t you call her with this?”

“Because you’ll need to administer the doses. It’s not going to be like a regular flu shot, Wilson. We’re speeding up the rate at which her cells regenerate. And it’s going to hurt much worse before it gets better.”

Bucky glanced out of the window into the yard as agents began unloading the Quinjet. “Why can’t you just do it at the Compound?”

Sam put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave him a weak smile, “She shouldn’t be anywhere near the Compound until we figure out where that leak is.”

“Right,” Bucky grunted, watching her smile as she walked back up the path to the house, directing the agents where to go. “I assume it’s already here?”

“Ask Agent 13,” Fury said. With that, he hung up.

Bucky jammed his phone in his pocket, shaking his head. “You think she’ll be okay with this?” he asked

Sam pointed outside in the direction of both women. Sharon was wrapped into an awkward side hug, carefully holding a steel briefcase in her hand. “I think she’s more than okay with it,” he noted in amusement.

Bucky couldn’t hide his contempt for the plan. His own personal experiences aside, he couldn’t help but liken it to lab-rat testing. If something went wrong or, worse, she died, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

Then, he remembered the number of times she’d bemoaned the fact that she couldn’t keep up with them since they’d started working together. Despite the fact that he thought she was perfect the way she was, he knew she couldn’t resist the draw of fitting in, even for a moment. 

The sound of Sharon greeting him jarred him from his thoughts, “Hey, Barnes.”

“Hey, 13,” he replied cheerily with a brief hug. He hadn’t seen her much since Steve’s departure. Her hair was longer, but her face was still as ageless as it had always been.

“Breaking your new teammate on the first mission? Rookie move,” Sharon joked.

He rolled his eyes, “We had an issue with the comms.”

“Right,” Sharon said, gently elbowing her smaller counterpart with a wink, “Captain Rogers always said he couldn’t stand you two fighting in his ear. I would’ve turned it off, too.”

As the group of agents continued bringing in her furniture, the four of them made their way into the dining room. Sharon opened the briefcase and motioned for her to sit down. “Now, I will say, this stuff is nasty. We watched the field test and the results are great, but the process is less than ideal.”

“How many field tests did they run?” she asked, eyeing the syringes in the case. 

“One.”

“Glad I’ll be the second,” she joked, looking up at Bucky.

Sharon smiled, “That’s why I’m here. I’ll show you how they work, make sure you don’t drop dead, and then you’ll know how to do it yourself.”

Sam sighed, “So, what’re we supposed to do?”

Sharon picked up a syringe and flicked it a few times to settle the contents. “Be moral support,” she shrugged. 

Bucky pulled up a chair in front of her and nodded for Sam to watch the process from Sharon’s side behind her. “You’re sure about this?” he asked. He studied her face and took note of the yellowing bruises. “You seem to be healing up okay without it.” 

“Are you nervous, Barnes?” she teased as she pulled up the back of her shirt her shirt.

Sharon and Sam hissed through gritted teeth at the sight of Bucky’s haphazard stitch job from the night before. With wide eyes, Sam looked at Bucky, “You’re a shit seamstress.”

“You know what I’m gonna say,” Bucky growled. 

Sharon grabbed a bandage and pressed it to the wound, causing her to jump. “You know this is seeping, right?” she asked, holding the bandage up to reveal a mixture of red, yellow, and green.

“Isn’t she going to be fine two days from now?” Bucky asked, growing angrier as they highlighted his inadequacies.

“Touché,” Sam chuckled. “Careful, Barnes, you’re sounding more like the Summer Soldier.” 

She sighed impatiently, “Okay, first, don’t talk about me like I’m not here. And second, leave him alone.” She gave him a half-smile, “He tried.”

“Alright, the point of this is that your cells are going to be put into hyperdrive the second the injection is over. With the minor infection,” Sharon explained with an annoyed look on her face, “that’s going to be first thing it attacks.”

“Yes, yes, lots of pain,” she said dismissively as she braced against the table. “Do it.”

The injection was quick. But by the time the needle was withdrawn, her jaw was clenched and beads of sweat had formed on her brow. She pursed her lips as she locked eyes with Bucky.

“Doing okay?” he asked as she brought her knuckles to her mouth to muffle her scream. Before he could grab her free hand, she punched him in the thigh. Hard.

“It’s going to hurt like that for an hour or so,” Sharon informed them, handing the case over to Sam. “If anything goes south, you know to call Fury.” She sighed and gave Bucky a weak smile, “It’s good to see you, Barnes. It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, same here,” Bucky replied, straining to stop the science experiment from digging her nails into his thigh and offering his metal arm instead. 

“Have you talked to him at all? Steve?”

Bucky nodded, “He calls every now and again, comes to visit sometimes.”

“Right,” Sharon said quietly. Suddenly, her eyes brightened as she suggested they catch up soon. Bucky knew it was purely platonic. After all, he tried to kill her only a few years prior and despite the fact that she’d helped Steve shortly after, he couldn’t help but feel guilty over it. As cool as she was, he opted to stay out of the Carter dynasty — a fact that three out of the four people in that room knew.

He watched her eyes speed furiously between him and Sharon, but before he could speak, she threw a punch into his shoulder, right where the metal fused with flesh. “ _Ow_ ,” he snapped at her through gritted teeth. She shut her eyes tightly in pain, but he could see the corners of her mouth fighting a smile. “Yeah,” he said to Sharon, “any time.” Sam doubled over in laughter and offered his hand as a replacement for Bucky’s, which was happily taken.

“Sounds good,” Sharon chuckled as she headed toward the door. She turned around and smiled, “You know, it’s my first time meeting you and I think you’re good for them.” She nodded towards Bucky, “Take care of each other.”

“We’re trying,” Sam muttered as the door closed. “How you holding up, kid?” he asked, giving her hand a gentle squeeze

“Fuck.”


	10. Chapter 10

The next injection wasn’t nearly as smooth. The same night, they decided to do it right before bed and Bucky offered an ultimatum: either have him inject the serum and she could beat the shit out of Sam or Sam would inject and she had to talk to Bucky throughout. Surprisingly, she chose the latter.

Fortunately, she didn’t punch him. Unfortunately, she bit him. 

In the middle of the night, Bucky woke up to her screams again. Scrambling into the hallway, he ran into Sam, clearly woken up by the same sounds. Sam sighed groggily, “You don’t think she —“

He was cut off by a quieter, but still clear scream. Bucky put out a hand to stop Sam from going inside. “I’ve got it. You’ve got that call in the morning.” 

Sam nodded, “Alright, keep me posted.”

He took a deep breath and prepared to wake her up, knowing that she’d try to fight him again. To his surprise, he opened the door to find that she wasn’t asleep at all.

The last syringe was empty on the floor in front of her mirror. Riggs whimpered helplessly next to her as she gripped the edge of the bed. She looked up from her pillow, anger and pain clouding her face. “Get. Out,” she demanded through heaving breaths.

Bucky stepped into the room, “Why would you do that? You know you need to space these out over two days.”

In a swift move, she grabbed a book from her nightstand and threw it at him, forcing him to deflect it with his arm. “I said to get out.”

He shook his head and walked over to her, closing the distance in only a few long strides. He sat down on the edge of her bed and grabbed her wrists, pulling her to sit up. “No,” she whined, “I can do this myself.”

“But you don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Now, I’d prefer if you don’t hit me this time, but if you do, aim for the shiny shit.”

For the first time, she genuinely laughed, wincing every so often. Her laugh was melodic, not shrill or grating, but a sound he’d fight to hear again. “Riggs talked me into it,” she explained, earning a low growl from Riggs.“Okay, sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to do it on my own. I figured that if you guys woke up in the morning and I was better, you guys would stop treating me like I’m fragile.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever thought of you as ‘fragile.’”

She looked up at the ceiling, seemingly to keep herself from crying. “Ugh, shit! Why does this hurt worse than last time?”

“Did you wait until the last one just stopped hurting?”

“Yeah.” She proudly smirked, which quickly turned into pained expression. Thankfully, she directed her clenched fist into the metal bed frame instead of him.

He grabbed her fist and chuckled, “You are gonna be the death of me.”

She quirked a brow as she looked up from her lap, “Why’s that, Barnes?”

He didn’t have an answer. He did, but it was much too soon to say half of what he was thinking. He could’ve cracked a joke or said something that would inevitably bury him deeper in the friendzone; however, he wasn’t quick enough.

She hissed in pain, “It’s cool. Go all icy on me. It’s fine.”

“ _I’m_ icy?”

“Okay, pot,” she quipped as she pointed between them, “meet kettle.” She laid down across her bed and patted the space next to her, “Might as well make yourself comfortable if you’re gonna stay.” When he didn’t move, she rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She let out a small whistle and Riggs jumped onto the bed, nestling himself against her. 

Bucky slowly laid down and stared at her as she tapped the space just in front of Riggs, directing him to scoot down. He dragged himself forward by his paws and rested his head on her thigh. “And you call yourself the ‘stand-in,’” he teased.

“You should’ve seen him with Luke. They were best friends.”

“I think you should give yourself more credit,” he suggested, “in more ways than one.”

“I don’t suffer from a lack of self-confidence, Barnes. I just know the truth.”

“Your truth,” he shrugged. He searched her face for any sign of pain, remembering the first night in the Med Bay when she masked it so well. “Does it hurt?”

Ignoring him, she glared at him. “What do you mean ‘my’ truth?”

“I think you’ve made yourself out to be a worse person than you actually are. Half the shit you believe we don’t see or think at all.”

She made a face, “And you?”

“I actually am a terrible person,” he said with a dark laugh.

She let out a ragged breath, “I don’t think you are.” 

He wondered how she saw him. It was clear that her thoughts were a maze, taking sharp turns between self-hate and importance. He wondered whether she’d placed him next to Sam in the corner of platonic love or if he was somewhere else entirely. Like him, she was complex and carried enough baggage.

“James?”

He focused on her again with a look of confusion. She was lying closer to him than before and all traces of pain were gone from her face. “ _James?_ ” he repeated in disbelief 

“That’s your name,” she reminded him with a smile. Then, her smile faded, “Fuck, you still know who I am, right? Because I can’t take you down on my best day and I definitely can’t do it now.”

“Ha.” He rolled his eyes, “First, it doesn’t work that way, not anymore. And second, no one calls me James.”

“I like your name.”

He shifted nervously, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s fun. Like,” she put the back of her hand on her forehead and sighed dramatically, “ _James._ ”

Bucky was stunned into silence. It had been a while since a woman had said his name that way and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. “Don’t do that,” he said flatly. He saw her face harden and quickly tried to make amends. “How long did you live in D.C. before you joined the team?”

She shrugged, “Couple months. I bounced around from coast to coast until I got here. Before that, it was wherever the Army needed me. Anything before that doesn’t matter.” She paused and smiled, “What about you? Where’ve you lived?”

“New York, then wherever the Army sent me. Then, wherever the Howling Commandos went,” he smiled at the memory of his old friends before his face darkened. “After that, I belonged to Hydra. Then, I followed Steve around, took a sabbatical in Wakanda, and now I just go anywhere Fury tells me to go.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He gave an amused smile, “For what?”

“That you never got to have a life of your own.”

He grew quiet. No one had ever apologized like that before. 

“Sorry again,” she said, disrupting his train of thought. “Not for that, but for upsetting you. I shouldn’t have said that.” She rested her chin on the back of her hand and smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What were you like before,” she reached out to touch his metal arm, “this?”

Watching her fingers lightly brush the grooves in the metal, he lamented the absence of feeling. The absentminded circles she drew would’ve radiated warm shivers across his skin, or at least he thought. Shaking it off, he sighed, “I only remember bits and pieces. From what Steve’s told me, I was pretty smooth — or so I thought. Good family, decent dancer — Always lookin’ out for Steve.” He scoffed, “but could also get suckered into chasing a dame pretty easily.”

She scrunched her nose, “Dame?”

“Shut up,” he joked. “What about you?” He reached up and brushed his fingertips against the scar on her neck, “What were you like before this?”

“Pretty much the same as I am now: brilliant, beautiful, and a damn good shot.” When she realized he saw through her lie, she sighed and rolled onto her back to trace the lines in the ceiling. “I was fun, excited about life, always searching for the next adventure. I had friends and Luke and my dad,” she listed with a smile. She turned to him, her voice quieter than before, “I think I was happy. I think you would’ve liked me.”

He shrugged, “I like you just fine now.”

Her smile became a sly grin. “That so?”

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, trying to change the subject back to the reason he was in her room to begin with.

“Not really. It seems like the longest stretch was after the first one.”

“You want me to let you go to sleep?” he asked, sitting up. Riggs picked up his head and whined, prompting him to pat him gently on the head.

Her brows knitted together in confusion, “Not really.” With a click of her tongue, Riggs jumped off of the bed and settled down in front of the door, immediately rolling onto his back and drifting back to sleep. She sat up and reached for his arm, pulling him down closer to her. When she was happy with where he was laying, she laid down next to him with a smile on her face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied stupidly. She yawned and closed her eyes. “If you go to sleep, you know I won’t be here when you wake up.”

“Because you think I wouldn’t want you to be or you think you shouldn’t be?”

“Both.”

“Well, depending on which option you choose, one of them is wrong.”

Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Much to his surprise, she buried her face in his chest. He could hear her heart beating hard, so he retreated into himself. “Sorry.”

“Stop,” she whispered, reaching down to pull his arm around her once more. 

Her skin was still warm from her self-imposed lab experiment, but the bruises were nearly gone. He ran a hand up her back to where the stitches once were and found a small, soft scar in their place. “Looks like you’re all good,” he noted.

“Go to sleep, Barnes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As she fell asleep, he stared at the ceiling. At night, the house usually kept him on edge, listening as the wind creaked through its old bones. But with her there, everything seemed still with the exception of the flexing of his arm around her waist and her soft breathing. He fought the urge to smile at the fact that, despite weathering her own storm, she brought such peace to his chaos.

He imagined waking up before her, bringing her coffee, and seeing her usual morning grogginess replace itself with a smile he’d hope was specifically for him. Maybe they’d spend the day together and he could keep her from drowning in her own guilt. Maybe he’d make her happy.

In his mind, he flipped through everything he’d learned about her: her favorite color, the places she’d lived, the stories about her father and brother.

Her father with the familiar name.

Unable to shake that last thought, he gently pulled himself away and left her bed, taking a large step over Riggs on the way out. When he closed the door quietly behind him and turned around, he jumped at the sight of Sam sitting in his doorway across from her room shaking his head. 

“I could’ve killed you!” Bucky hissed, his heart still beating fast. “I have _knives._ ”

“Please,” Sam hissed back as he stood up, “it takes you at least five seconds to regain your defenses after being with her. Besides, I would kick your ass.”

Unwilling to fight back, Bucky started walking down to his own room. “Why are you still awake?” he whispered

Sam yawned and smiled, “You still like her.”

Bucky froze in the middle of the hallway. “I don’t. I can’t.”

“You can and you do.”

“Fuck off, Wilson.” Bucky turned to face his door and closed his eyes.

“I’m just saying, it’s been a month and the most you’ve done is come to her rescue when you think she needs it,” Sam muttered. “If you like her, be more than a comfort blanket.”

“I told you to fuck off!” Bucky stared at the floor, “I did tell her I liked her. It seemed like she liked me back.”

“Then, why are you whispering with me in the hallway?” Sam retorted, “Why aren’t you in there right now all like, ‘Hey, I know we’re both kinda fucked in the head but I think we should give this a try?’” 

“I don’t know!” Bucky snapped, “Why are _you_ in the hallway at all?”

Sam shrugged, “I heard what she did and she attempts to murder you every time. I don’t need her ripping your other arm off — I’d be out a partner.” When Bucky glared at him, he sighed and went back to his room, “I’ll tell myself to fuck off.”


	11. Chapter 11

After her quick recovery, they resumed training. It was like she was given a new lease on life. However, that new lease on life seemed to include a clause where she only spoke to Bucky if it involved work and addressed him by his last name. For weeks, he watched as her and Sam’s friendship grew stronger and she pushed him further away.

On more than one occasion, he’d wake up to one of their morning workouts where she sat cross-legged on Sam’s back as he did push-ups until her uncontrollable laughter made him collapse. He’d catch them singing together while cooking dinner and the last time he commented on it, she flicked a fistful of lettuce at him and turned up the volume. 

Their friendship was cute — he hated it.

Every other morning, she and Sam would go running through the woods before dawn, making enough noise upon their return that Bucky woke up on cue.

“I’m just saying,” he heard Sam say in a hushed voice as he made his way to the kitchen, “it’s hard putting myself out there, especially now.”

He heard her laugh, “Sam, you’re a catch, Captain America or not. You’re gonna find that awesome girl you deserve. And I think you should give that receptionist a call.”

“Just like that?” Sam deadpanned

“Just like that,” she affirmed. “You’ll never know if you don’t take a chance. Granted, that chance might scar you forever like everything does to me, but hey, you never know, right?”

“Speaking of chances,” he whispered, “what about you and —“

“Morning, Barnes!” she exclaimed a little too eagerly once Bucky rounded the corner into the kitchen

Bucky raised a brow and glanced between them, “Morning.” He opened the fridge and grabbed the gallon of milk, taking a huge swig from the jug. Her eyes widened as she stomped toward him to snatch the jug from his hand. “Hey!”

She made a face at him, “What are you? An animal?” She grabbed a glass from the cabinet, pouring the milk and handing it to him. “There, now we can all drink milk.”

He looked at Sam bewildered, who merely shrugged in agreement with her. “Fine, glasses for milk.”

She leaned against the counter and smirked, “I’m just saying that when you do that, you’re the only one who can drink out of it and I don’t wanna suffer through dry cereal.”

Sam crossed his arms, “Since we’re airing out grievances, I’d like it if the stripping in the laundry room stopped.”

She turned to Sam, furious, “You said ‘common areas’ and I have laundry to do! I only wanna do it once and if I don’t wash everything, then my hamper is never empty!”

“Look, if he’s gonna compromise on the milk, then you have to agree to wearing clothes during daylight hours. Period.” Sam put up hands in defense, “I just don’t wanna walk in on anything.”

She turned to Bucky, who was smirking in the corner. “You don’t seem to have an issue with it,” she snapped.

Bucky’s face dropped and he briefly cleared his throat, “Well, uh, I - Sam’s right. No stripping in the laundry room.”

She rolled her eyes and headed into the hall, “I’m gonna shower — fully clothed. And then we can go shoot, Barnes.”

“You know our next mission has you gathering intel, right? We mentioned that?” Sam asked, shaking her head. “Don’t you think that’s worth training?”

“No.”

Sam let out a groan of exasperation. “Fine, but I’m taking Riggs today! And I’m feeding him anything he wants!” At the call of his name, Riggs came sniffing into the kitchen, his tail wagging happily. Sam knelt down and stroked the fur on his back. “You like the sound of that, Riggs?” He raised his voice, “That’s right! You’re getting hotdogs today! Grilled!”

Bucky stifled a laugh out of respect for Sam’s annoyance. “Uh, yeah! And please don’t use my towel again!” Bucky called after her. He turned to Sam, “Are you coming with us?”

“Can’t. I got Captain stuff to do,” Sam replied, giving Bucky a pat on the shoulder before leaving. “Please get her to train something else other than her shooting,” he begged. 

The air was crisp as Bucky lie prone on the ground next to her. He checked his scope and glanced at her while she set herself up. Just as he remembered, she was methodical, lining up her scopes in an order that made no sense to him but he didn’t dare question. It was a special kind of artistry, only with ammo and weapons. She’d take one, rearrange it, then put it back in its original place. After an earlier training session, he realized why she treated her process with such care: she didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.

“You keep staring like that. Are you planning on shooting?” she asked as she shoved handgun into the holster around her thigh

“You know we’re just shooting rubber bullets at drones, right?” he asked, checking his scope again. “There’s no risk here.”

She hummed skeptically before replying, “There’s always a risk, Barnes. You wake up, get in your car, and you could total it with it being no fault of your own.” She turned the lens of her scope and checked it once more. “So, I’m gonna do all that I can to control whatever I can.”

“Fair enough.”

The hum of the drones grew louder as the first wave approached. In silent competition, they each shot as many and as quickly they could muster. 

She sat up with a satisfied smile, “Seven.”

“Nine,” he smirked. He saw one last drone lagging behind and drew his handgun, firing off one last round and sending it to the ground. “Make that ten.”

“I hate you,” she sighed. 

He bit the inside of his lip as his brows furrowed. “I know.”

She opened her mouth to say something, inhaling sharply before closing it. Instead, she frowned at her own rifle, “I’m not as quick on the move as I used to be.”

Thankful she changed the subject, he played along. “You think it’s your shoulder?”

She shook her head, “It feels better than it has in years. That hasn’t been an issue in weeks.” She ran a hand over her face, “No, it’s like, I’m hesitating before pulling the trigger. And we can’t afford that.”

“You took down twenty-six Hydra operatives alone on your first mission without hesitating.”

“Well, now I _am_ hesitating, so your observations are no longer valid,” she snapped. She winced and sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He had an idea. “You wanna switch on this next round?”

Her eyes narrowed, “You wanna trade rifles?” She seemed to be thinking it over. “No one’s ever shot this except for me,” she said quietly, running her thumb over the inscription. After a moment, she relented and sidled over to his side as he did the same. 

“I don’t know how this is gonna help,” she said. Her voice was flat, but she was watching him reload her gun like a hawk. After what he thought was a nod of approval, she reloaded his gun.

The next wave came with twice as many drones as before. “You ready?” he asked, adjusting the scope. Just before putting his finger on the trigger, he touched the inscription like she had. It was obvious that it had been scratched in with something thin like a razor and sealed with a clear coat.

Although he shot fine, hitting eleven targets, there was an issue with her rifle aside from the fact that it wasn’t his. It was one that he immediately recognized. “Fifteen,” he sighed.

“Holy shit,” she squealed. “I hit the same! We’ve never shot even.” She pulled him into an awkward, yet tight, hug. 

Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her. He missed her touch, no matter how quick it was. He smiled briefly before raising a brow, “When’s the last time you cleaned this gun?”

“Uh, maybe a month ago?” she answered cautiously, pulling away from him and shrinking back into herself

He dropped his forehead onto the grass and groaned, “A month? Are you kidding? You’ve shot this almost everyday.”

“I cleaned it before our last mission,” she shrugged, “and had every intention of doing it again before our next.”

He almost wanted to laugh, but he also felt pity. She was so quick to blame and find a fault in herself that she couldn’t even think of the simplest answer. So, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he sighed and shook his head, “You know there’s gear maintenance. We turn it in, we get it back, and it’s clean.”

“If I say that I’ll look into that, will you stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you feel bad for me.”

“Yes.”

As they walked back to the house, she kept pace with him in silence, which was no longer new as of the last few weeks. He’d grown used to the uncomfortable silence because it gave him time to imagine what new strategies she’d use to avoid him next. His personal favorite was when she signaled Riggs to conveniently start gagging whenever he said anything unrelated to business.

However, there was no Riggs this time and his curiosity got the better of him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he asked, “What were you and Sam talking about this morning?”

“Relationships,” she said plainly, unsurprised by his sudden attempt at conversation. “Wow, a few weeks without any kind of personal questions and that’s what you start off with?” Her voice sounded further away than it had only moments before and Bucky realized she’d stopped walking in the middle of the path. “You know what? I’ve finally got one for you: why did you leave that night?”

He turned around, “What are you talking about?”

“That night. The one where I told you to stay.”

“I prefer to sleep by myself,” he lied.

“You don’t sleep,” she said as she took a step toward him. “You do, but not much. I know you don’t.”

“How would you know that?”

She didn’t respond as she stomped past him towards the house. Whipping around, nearly taking herself out with her own rifle, she glared at him. “You’re not the only one who pays attention to shit around here, Barnes! I took a chance and got fuck all for it!”

He looked around with wide eyes, closing his mouth after realizing it had been hanging open. “You wanna do this now? Right here? Right now?”

“No!” she yelled, turning swiftly and stomping up the steps. There was the sound of a few spastic barks and then the unmistakable slam of a door.

Moments later, Sam walked out in confusion. “Should I even ask what’s going on?”

“No.” Bucky stormed into the house, dropping his gear and heading straight to her room. He knocked hard a few times and dropped his voice low, “Either you open this fucking door now or I’ll —“

The door swung open before he could finish. She stood there with her gear still strapped to her and her fists clenched. “What? What’ll do you do? The fucking door is open so —“

His body moved before his brain as he grabbed her rifle sling and pulled her into him, crashing his lips hard onto hers. Her fists pressed into his chest, eventually relaxing and gripping his jacket to pull him impossibly closer. 

“Barnes,” she breathed.

“Stop,” he whispered as he moved her hair out of her face. He didn’t want to talk or yell or think. In fact, there was only one thing he wanted. “Bucky,” he insisted.

She smiled and shook her head in disbelief. “Bucky,” she repeated

Sam cleared his throat, tearing them both back to reality. He was leaning against the bathroom doorway with a cheeky grin and Riggs by his side. “I told you, Riggs,” he said from the side of his mouth, “she never hated him.”

Still not looking away from her, Bucky softly kissed her forehead. “I think we have a lot to talk about,” he said with a soft laugh.

She giggled and rested her forehead against his arm. “Yeah, like the fact that this arm isn’t the warmest.”

“Or that I can’t actually feel that you’re there,” he muttered.

“We hate to interrupt, but Fury’s given the go-head. Mission’s coming up and we need to get to the Compound tonight,” he said as he pushed himself off the wall. “Pack it up and move out,” he directed over his shoulder as he started towards his room. “You too, Wonder Pup.”


	12. Chapter 12

Fury ran through the plan again, flipping through a presentation of the names and pictures of their potential targets. “All of these operatives are low-level at best, which is why we can send her in. We’re assuming that only the ones with the right security clearance know who she is,” he explained.

Sam folded his hands on the table and looked up at Fury. “And neither of us can go in?”

Fury shook his head, “Everyone knows who you are, especially you, Barnes.”

“Understandable,” Bucky smirked. He looked across the table at her and winked, “We won’t be far, right?”

“Obviously,” Fury deadpanned, carefully studying the two of them. “Recon’s all yours,” he told her. “I assumed you’ve worked on that.”

“Nope,” she replied nonchalantly. “I don't need to practice flirting with a guy at a bar.”

“This isn’t interrogating enemy combatants in some unknown country,” he warned.

“I am aware,” she fired back, “and I can assure you that I can do anything as long as I get to pick my outfit.”

Sam pretended to scratch his goatee to hide a laugh before clearing his throat, “Training Bay 4.”

“Great,” she said, clapping her hands together with a fake smile. “Are we done here? I wanna be well-rested for my big debut and I still haven’t found anything to wear.”

Fury sighed, “You are dismissed.” He pointed to Sam and Bucky, “Not you two. You stay.”

She shot out of her chair and headed toward the door, “See you all in the morning.” She looked at Bucky one last time and smiled sheepishly before leaving.

When he was sure she was gone, Fury glared at Bucky. “I saw that, Barnes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said dismissively. When the attention turned to Sam, all he could do was shrug in defense of his friend’s lie.

“We’ll deal with that another time,” Fury said curtly. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folder labeled Top Secret. “Had to pull a few strings at the Pentagon, but I got that intel you requested about her father.”

When he slid the folder across the table, there was a draw between Bucky and Sam over who’d get to read it first. Sam rolled his eyes, “ _I_ am the file reader in this duo.” He grinned mischievously, “Besides, there might be some big words in here that’ll fry your cyborg brain.”

In a rare occurrence, Fury genuinely laughed while Bucky stewed in rage. “Fine,” Bucky said coldly.

Sam opened the folder and pulled out a small stack of photos, spreading them on the table. “I’m guessing this is her twin,” he noted, pointing to a photo of a man in uniform who looked identical to her. “Dad. Mom. And here’s our darling,” he added, pointing down the row. He held up the last photo and gave a little smile, “This is a family you’d put on one of those brochures to sell war bonds.”

"Yeah," Bucky replied quietly as he grabbed the photo from Sam's hand. He studied it carefully, noting the in-love expressions of her parents and the genuine happiness on her face. Scanning her father’s face once more, he couldn’t figure out where he'd seen him before.

Fury cleared his throat as he turned his attention back to the file. “Her story lines up with what’s on page 36. It was an ambush that killed her father and brother based on bad intel. She received a Purple Heart and offered the opportunity to discharge, which she refused.”

“So, in other words, you’ve got nothing,” Bucky said flatly.

“Read page 49.”

Sam flipped to the page in question and began reading aloud, “‘Upon further investigation of the incident, the committee concludes the following: one, the previously redacted location was a small village in Sokovia.’”

Bucky leaned over the table. “What was the Army doing in Sokovia? It barely exists anymore.”

“Wasn’t she attached to Special Forces? We know how they operate,” Sam answered.

“Keep reading,” Fury directed.

Sam looked at Bucky and nodded before turning his attention back its previous place. “‘Two, the incident is believed to have been orchestrated by the upper echelons of Hydra’s leadership.’” He looked up from page with curiosity, “You’re telling us that Hydra killed her family?”

“Isn’t that what the file says?”

Sam and Fury immediately began trading theories as to why Hydra would’ve wanted to eliminate an intelligence soldier and his son. After all, those weren’t their usual targets. Bucky’s ears started ringing as chewed the inside of his lip. Listening to the two of them dancing around the obvious angered him. “Could it have been me?” he interrupted darkly

“Could it have been you — what?” Sam asked, turning to look at his friend with concern

Bucky leaned forward, “Could I have been the one who killed her family?”

Fury shook his head, “You were in Wakanda when this happened.”

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “That still doesn’t explain why I feel like I know who her father was,” he mumbled.

“He was a decorated and well-respected soldier,” Sam suggested, “and maybe you had a target at one of those dinner parties higher-ups always seem to have.”

“Maybe,” Bucky replied quietly.

Sam looked back down at the page, “There’s a third item on this list: three, any attempt to contact next-of-kin regarding additional intelligence has been met with contempt.” He looked up at the two of them and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s it. There’s nothing else.”

Fury lowered his voice, “You can’t tell her any of this — neither of you.”

Sam made a face, “You don’t think she deserves to know the truth about the deaths of her father and brother?”

“She is volatile and violent,” Fury reminded them. “And reckless, and emotional —“

“That’s enough,” Bucky warned, recalling the times she insisted they stop talking about her as though she wasn’t there.

Ignoring him, Fury continued, “If you think she wouldn’t put herself and this team at risk once she learned who was really responsible, you are distracted by your own feelings.”

Sam closed the folder and exhaled, locking eyes with Bucky before looking over at Fury. “Fine,” he partially agreed, “we’ll tell her when we know more.”

“Launch at 1300, gentlemen,” Fury said, standing up. “Get some sleep.”

After Fury left, Sam cracked a grin. “I’m guessing I’m walking back to my room alone?”

“Yes,” Bucky grunted.

Bucky walked the semi-familiar path to her room and knocked on the door. Between Riggs barking viciously, he could hear soft, psychedelic rock playing on the other side. He checked his watch as the door unlocked: 0100. It only opened a crack at first, revealing a single suspicious eye staring at him until it swung wide open. 

Without warning, she grabbed his hand and jerked him inside, pushing him against the door to close it. She kissed him hard and he could feel her smiling. “Long time, no see,” she whispered against his lips.

“Yeah, eons,” he joked, kissing her again. When they finally broke away, she walked away from him to turn on the light and he could see what she wearing. “You were asleep?” he asked, taking note of the fact that she wasn’t wearing pants.

She pulled the hem of her t-shirt down over her thighs as she sat down on the couch and grimaced, “Not really. Same as always.” She reached up to move a sweaty strand of hair off of her forehead. “Riggs barking pulled me out of that one,” she added with a small smile at the dog who’d resettled himself on the bed in the corner. 

“You ever think it’s your choice in white noise that keeps you from sleepin’ well, doll?

“Jimi and I don’t appreciate your accusation,” she said playfully. She turned to look at him and raised a brow, “What made you wander over to my neck of the woods, anyway?”

He shrugged, “Wanted to see you.”

“And leave?”

“If you want me to.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him, “Really?”

He went to sit down next to her, pulling her legs over his lap. “No.”

“I like your answer,” she said sweetly. She ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “Let’s just —“

“Be here for now and worry about the rest later?” he asked cautiously 

She nodded and laughed, “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

He leaned in and kissed her again, the scent of plumeria flowers filled his nose. Intoxicated by her, he gripped her bare thigh and pushed her against the arm of the couch deepening the kiss. He shuddered as she reached a hand underneath his shirt and trailed her fingers down his spine. 

She nipped his lower lip as she pulled away, sending a new wave of chills rippling through him. “It’s only been one day and I already think I could do again tomorrow,” she said quietly. With a lazy smile, she yawned and looked at the clock on the wall. “But we’ve got a mission and sleep is a necessity.”

“That’s all I came for,” he replied, his eyes flickering to her lips.

“Sure,” she sighed, sliding from beneath him and offering a hand. When he took it, she pulled him off of the couch and toward her bed, sneaking a quick glance at him over her shoulder and giggling. 

The signs of her bedtime distress were apparent by the haphazard mess of blankets strewn across the mattress and floor. She quickly smoothed them out and folded them down, gesturing him to the opposite side. Before he could follow orders, she put her hands on her hips, “You plan on sleeping in boots and that jacket?”

“Oh.”

“I won’t look,” she winked, turning around.

As he took off his boots, he chuckled, “You can if you want.” He stripped down to his boxer briefs and henley shirt and looked up to see her laying down watching him with a quizzical expression. “What?”

“You wear sleeves to bed?”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he narrowed his eyes, “Yeah. And you’re also wearing a shirt, and I didn’t ask about it.”

A look of annoyance flashed across her face before she pulled her shirt up and tossed it onto the floor, leaving her in a sports bra. “Even the score,” she challenged.

He laughed nervously, “I don’t think —“

“I do,” she assured him with a determined look. “I’ve shown you mine, you show me yours.”

“I think you have your phrasing backwards,” he said. Taking a deep breath, he reached for the center of his back, easily pulling his shirt off. He looked down at his shoulder, the angry red scars that crawled across his chest seemed brighter now. His eyes traveled down the rest of his prosthetic and he flexed his fingers a few times before glancing up to see her reaction.

Where he expected disgust, he saw gentle acceptance. When he expected to hear a gasp or even a scream, only the metallic whirring of his arm and Jimi Hendrix filled the air. 

She wasn’t afraid or even morbidly curious; she was just her.

Wordlessly, she invited him under the covers and reached over to her phone to change the song. “Does it bother you?”

“The music or the arm?”

“The music, dipshit.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” He chuckled, “It’s not exactly rain sounds, but, whatever works for you.”

She turned off the light and settled in so that she was facing him. “You were around in the ‘60s, right?” she asked suddenly 

“If you can call it that,” he replied. “I was in and out of cryo, so, not much time to enjoy it.”

She scoffed, “That’s a shame. I would kill to see you dressed up and going to Woodstock.”

“Ha ha,” he replied dryly, reaching around her and pulling her closer. “That’s far before your time.”

“Okay, but seriously,” she began, “you know how they did all those psychedelic drug trials on veterans with PTSD before they decided to start the whole War on Drugs?”

“Yeah. Also something I didn’t get well-acquainted with.”

“Well, I like to think that this is as close as I’m gonna get to any of that. Just laying here, spinning out with my own thoughts.” He couldn’t see her face, but he could hear her smile in the words she spoke. “Sometimes, it helps. Most of the time, it doesn’t. But I do like the sound.” Before he could say anything in response, she ran her fingers across the tender and scarred skin of his shoulder.

“Ask your questions and then we’re going to bed,” he said with a laugh.

“Does it hurt?”

He shrugged, “Not much, that spot you’re touchin’ is pretty sensitive, but I can’t feel much beyond that.”

“Did you ever get to enjoy any of the world around you when they let you out?”

He sighed, “They only took me out for a few days at most. By the time I started feeling anything other than following orders, I was back in cryo.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Every time they’d thaw me out, the world had changed from the last time I’d seen it,” he said quietly. “I had to get reacquainted with a world I wasn’t meant to be in.” He shifted to get comfortable and reached up to touch her face with his flesh hand, tracing her soft jawline with his thumb. The pieces of his life flashed through his mind. “There were new inventions, new sights, new sounds, new clothes — new everything, and I wanted to learn about it all before it was too late. So, to answer your question: yes, I got to enjoy it a little.”

“Good.” She paused for a moment before speaking again, “I’m glad you pushed back against those fucks.”

“If you think so,” he whispered. He kissed her forehead, “Now, we really need to sleep.”

A full night’s sleep was something Bucky hadn’t experienced in a long time, let alone with Jimi Hendrix and The Doors lulling him to sleep while he lay next to a barely dressed woman. When he woke up with his face tucked into the back of her neck and her legs tangled in his, he didn’t even need to open his eyes to remember where he was. 

She stirred and brushed her lips across his fingers that were tightly laced with hers before letting go and getting up with a sigh. He watched as she walked over to the window and hugged herself as she looked out at the sprawling grounds of the Compound. 

“What song is this?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows

“Little Wing,” she said without looking at him. “You like it?”

“I do.” When she still wouldn’t look at him, he got up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Despite their combined lack of clothing, her skin radiated warmth against his. “You might be onto something with that playlist of yours.”

She smirked. “Did you dream last night?” she asked suddenly

“No,” he replied, “did you?”

She shook her head and gripped his forearms tightly, planting a gentle kiss against his metal arm that he imagined would’ve felt nice. “That’s the only way I’ll see them again, whether it’s good or bad,” she said quietly. She chewed at the inside of her lip while he scrambled for words; his dreams were never something he looked at with fondness.

Riggs shook out his fur and jingled his collar, reminding them he was still there. Her demeanor changed as she turned to look at him, “You ready to hang out with the K-9 dogs for a little while?”

“Fury lets you keep him with K-9?” Bucky asked as she walked over to her bag and started pulling out clothes

She gave him a sly smile, “Riggs is better trained than most of those dogs. This is like daycare for him.” She stood up and watched him as he got dressed. “Climbing out the window and traversing the wilderness back to your room?”

He fastened his jacket and walked toward the door, but not before stopping to kiss her one more time. “No, I’m gonna walk down the hall,” he replied. 

Her eyes widened, “You can’t just walk down the hall! There are people here!”

“I’ll see you at launch,” he said with a devious smirk before leaving.


	13. Chapter 13

A few hours later, Bucky, Sam, and Fury waited at the Quinjet. Sam and Fury reviewed the logistics of the mission while Bucky carefully loaded their gear, checking and rearranging things more often than usual. With Sam’s new position, intel missions were far and few between - let alone with a new team member. However, when Bucky and Sam met for the first time that afternoon, their mutual irritability meant to mask the nervousness began to falter.

“You’re sure this is gonna get what we need? This is absolutely necessary?” Sam asked again, checking the small screen projecting from Fury’s tablet

Fury sighed and turned off the projection, clearly annoyed by Sam’s doubt, “I’m sure. The targets are solid. It should go off without a hitch.” He looked at Bucky, “No matter what happens, you two can’t be seen.”

“Tell me again why we couldn’t send Maximoff or 13 in with her,” Bucky said.

“Agent Maximoff is still on sabbatical working with our mental health department and Agent 13 has a different assignment right now,” Fury explained.

There was silence as they remembered the losses that Wanda had suffered in her time with the Avengers. Mourning the loss of at least five people in rapid succession would be difficult for anyone, but for Wanda, the wounds cut deeply. While she was still welcoming and cheerful, taking her on a mission was off the table. So, Fury had assigned her to use her abilities to counsel as many of their agents as possible to keep her out of the mental prison she’d locked herself in.

There was the unmistakable clatter of guns bouncing off of someone’s back as they walked, drawing their attention in the direction of the noise. She stepped up to the launchpad wearing her usual tactical cargo pants, boots, and black knit tank. The only difference between this and the last mission is that her hair had been tamed and curled to lay against her chest.

“Dammit,” Fury muttered under his breath. “Do you —“

“Don’t start,” she interrupted forcefully, “everything’s in my bag.”

“You don’t need the guns.”

She raised a brow as Bucky walked over to her. He fought the urge to laugh watching yet another standoff between the two and helped her drop her gear. “I always need guns. That’s what you hired me for, remember?”

An tenuous silence grew before Fury pinched the bridge of his nose and smiled amusedly, “I have faith in you.”

Her eyes grew wide for a moment before returning to their usual skeptical gaze. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She studied him for a moment before giving him a small smile. “I won’t let us down,” she said with sincerity. “And maybe we’ll get to have a little fun in the along the way.”

“I don’t expect that you will — in either case.”

The three of them boarded the jet and picked their seats for takeoff. Sam immediately climbed into the cockpit with the pilot to discuss coordinates. Bucky opted to sit across from her as he always had. Her eyes were focused on her shoes as she reached up to rub her scar, then, she buried her face in her hands and exhaled shakily as they took off. 

“What if I walked in there wearing this?” she tried to joke

“I’d still buy you a drink,” Bucky replied playfully. He could see the sheepish smile forming on her lips as she blushed. Then, he remembered that they were on their way to a club in London and that she would be working undercover on her own. “Are you gonna change?”

“Yeah,” she replied gruffly, all traces of flirtiness gone, “you planning on staying to watch?”

He shook his head, “We can table that invite for later, but I’ll go up with Sam.” He made his way forward to the cockpit and sat in the open seat next to Sam, who was pouring over the file that Fury had given them the night before.

Sam smiled as he looked up from its pages, “She’s changing?”

Bucky nodded and stared out at the sea below them, “You think she’s got this?”

Sam glared at him, “Are you doubting your girlfriend who also happens to be a good friend of mine? Because I’ll throw you off this jet and we can see how well that arm can break a fall.”

“Been there, done that,” Bucky muttered.

“Dark.”

His eyes narrowed, “She’s not my girlfriend. I just hate that she’s doing this alone.”

“She didn’t want anyone else to go with her. Fury tried to send another agent in with her, but she argued with him.”

Bucky exhaled deeply, “Of course she did.” He turned his attention to the folder in Sam’s hands and lowered his voice, “I thought there wasn’t anything else in there we could use.”

“I dunno, man,” Sam said with a shrug, “something’s not right with this report.”

“What do you mean?”

He handed him a page of witness statements. “This is the statement from her Spotter. Look at the fourth line in the second paragraph.”

Bucky aloud, “‘I dragged my teammate to cover and by the time we got there, there was some kind of argument on the radio. They couldn’t find two of the bodies from our patrol. We found them in some kind of abandoned building about a klick [sic] from our initial point of contact.’” His brows knitted together as he handed the page back, “Someone dragged them half a mile away? Why?”

“I don’t pretend to know how Hydra works.”

“The only reason they’d do that —“

“— is because they wanted the bodies,” Sam agreed. “If this was a targeted hit, why leave so many witnesses?”

“Why leave her?” Bucky asked

They quietly traded motives for the rest of the flight, ultimately leading to no answers and more questions than they started with. Once they landed, Bucky and Sam climbed back to the main deck of the jet. She scrambled to stand with wide eyes and clumsily presented herself. “Did you just curtsy?” Sam teased

“Okay, fuck off,” she warned. “But really, verdict?” she asked with a wince

Bucky’s mouth went dry as he studied her from the bottom up. Her normal tactical pants and boots was now a tight leather skirt and knee high boots. She’d chosen an emerald green long-sleeve shirt and denim jacket to top it off. Despite the scowl, the way she’d done her makeup accentuated her best features.

She was breathtaking.

Sam took her hand and spinning her around, “My girl’s got style. You found this in the bay?”

She shook her head, “These are my clothes. I didn’t like anything there.”

“You just,” Sam said with a pause, “have these?”

Her nostrils flared, “I do have cute outfits and would actually go places before teaming up with you two. I did have a life before co-signing onto this one.” 

“Well, color me impressed.”

“Refer to my previous opening statement,” she deadpanned. She blinked at him a few times, “It’s been a while since I’ve done the whole make up thing — does it look stupid?”

“Not at all. And you covered your scar.”

“It was that or pop the collar to this jacket. I chose the latter.”

Sam chuckled. He turned to look at Bucky and stuck his arms out to show her off, “Barnes? Thoughts?”

It’s not like she was normally average-looking or homely or even showing anything Bucky hadn’t seen before, but seeing her dressed differently caused a pain in his chest. He wondered what her life had been before she joined the team — before she met him. He thought about all the places she deserved to be taken and shown off; something he could hardly deliver. She didn’t need his or Sam’s validation as she validated herself all on her own. 

However, in their separate corner of the Shenandoah, he’d come to know her far too well. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times before furrowing his brows, “Where’s the gun?”

She rolled her eyes and smirked, “Between my thighs. She lifted up her skirt a few inches to reveal a holster strapped to her thigh. “It’s a 7-round .380 with a three-inch barrel. Very cute, very easy to access,” she explained.

He smirked and reached into his pocket to hand her a comm. As she stuffed it into her ear and pulled her hair over it, Sam asked her to review the details of her mission: get into the club, find a target, collect any information on Hydra and Zemo, and leave. When he asked her to repeat it a third time as they walked to the location, she kicked him in the knee.

They set up their surveillance in a warehouse down the block from the club, far enough to remain undetected but close enough to get in if things went south. They listened as she sweet-talked the bouncer and was welcomed in, the faint beat of music coming through their equipment.

“Oh,” she gasped, “why didn’t anyone tell me that baby Hydra agents were so cute? D’you think they’re all American or are some foreign? I could work with either, but you know, when in Rome, right?”

Bucky and Sam exchanged looks of frustration. “Cute? You think they’re cute?” Sam asked

“They _are_ cute. They’ve all got jawlines like they could take over all of DC with just one phone call to daddy.”

Sam looked at Bucky, who had clenched his fists in his lap as he listened, and his lips curled into a playful smile, “ _That’s_ your type? I guess it’d make sense, this is the first time you’ve been out in months.”

Bucky braced himself for her answer. “No,” she snorted as he relaxed. “It’d be exponentially boring. Besides, I think you know my type.”

“Stop talking to yourself in public,” Bucky smirked.

“Fine. But you’re smiling. He’s smiling, right, Sam?”

Sam laughed, “He most certainly is. Please stop fucking with him before he hits me.”

She was quiet for a moment as they turned off their transmitters and they listened to her order a drink at the bar. A few minutes later, a stranger’s voice came through the comms, “Flying solo tonight?”

They heard her scoff, “If you’re about to say something about me being the most beautiful girl here, I’ll let you know that flattery gets you nowhere.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look before Sam shook his head. “Give her a chance,” he muttered.

“Damn,” the man chuckled, “that works at least nine out of ten times.”

“Happy to be the one,” she joked.

“Mind if I sit down?” 

“I’m not waiting on anyone and it would seem that you’ve found one of the few single girls in this club, so the seat’s all yours.”

They listened as the two exchanged pleasantries and she wove a convincing story about her career as an aide for a Congresswoman. In exchange, the man claimed to be a Hedge Fund manager. 

"She's good at this," Sam chuckled.

Bucky side-eyed him, but it was only half-hearted. Her conversation was effortless; he could hear the flirtatious laugh in her voice, which was a sound he didn't get to frequently enjoy. She’d never really flirted with either of them, not that she needed to in order to grab his attention.

If they’d been two regular people in a bar, she would’ve laughed at his poor jokes, touched his arm flirtatiously, and charmed a kiss from him by the end of the night. Instead, they kept her locked in a cabin in the forest surrounded by agents living with a man who had metal wings and a shield, another with a cybernetic arm, and a German Shepard. Under those circumstances, growing attached to one of them was inevitable.

“You know she’s only playing a role, right?” Sam asked, disrupting Bucky’s stream of consciousness. “There’s really no need to brood.”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah, I know. I just —“

“— hope she actually likes you? Or think you’ve finally found someone who gets you?”

"So, I know you're lying to me," they heard the man say. He and Sam shared a concerned look and leaned in closer, silently agreeing to pick up their conversation another time.

"You mean you don't believe that I spend my days running coffee errands and recording memos for a politician? " she asked coyly.

“No, I don’t.”

Bucky snapped his gaze to Sam, “Pull her out.”

Sam waved a hand, “Wait, let’s see what she says.”

"You caught me," she laughed, much to Bucky and Sam’s panic. "I'm actually a journalist on Capitol Hill — it's mainly free-lance, but my bills are paid,” she explained convincingly. “Now that you've me figured out, you tell me the truth."

They breathed a collective sigh of relief as the man laughed. "Okay, fair enough. Would you believe me if I said that I can't tell you what I do because I'd have to kill you?"

"Cheap," Sam grunted. "This kid thinks he's an assassin."

They turned their attention back to the conversation. “Oh, how mysterious," she replied playfully. 

"Very,” he agreed, “Half the time I don't even know who I report to. I don't even think they're in the same country I’m in, if they're even real. I just follow the orders when they come — but hey, that’s the price you pay when you’re trying to save the world from itself,” the man said arrogantly.

Although the agent had little to offer in terms of information, she’d managed to charm as much as she could out of him. There was no mention of Zemo’s whereabouts or specifics about Hydra’s next moves, but it was enough to report back to Fury and keep him off their backs for a while.

"Oh," they heard her gasp, "please don't touch my neck." She fumbled, "Sorry, I’m just ... it's a weird spot for me."

“That’s cool,” the man said, his voice laced with suspicion. 

Sam and Bucky looked at the surveillance camera screen and watched as a blacked out SUV pulled up outside of the club. Sam switched to the heat scanners and studied the screen for a moment, “I’m picking up five heat signatures, all large and probably armed.”

Bucky turned on the receiver for the comm and cut in over the man’s advances, “We’ve got five incoming. You need to get out of there. Go through the back.”

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” they heard her say nervously.

The muffled sounds of a physical altercation followed by the unmistakable cock of a gun sent them into action. By the time they scrambled down the stairs and out of the warehouse, they could hear the commotion inside the club through their comms as the men walked toward the club’s entrance, forcing them to duck back into the alley. “Those don’t look like the regular Hydra Stormtroopers,” Sam said, eyeing them. 

Bucky took a look himself. Sam was right. The five men were in suits, but they were too far away to make out any discernible features. “We can’t just leave her in there.”

“We can’t just blast in there with all of those civilians inside either.” Sam spoke into the comm, “Location?”

“Uh,” she panted as they heard her strides against the floor, “getting the fuck out of here. I’ll let you know in a second.”

“Don’t —“

It was too late. She’d shut off the comms.

Bucky glared at Sam, who merely shook his head, “I’m not even gonna try to decode that right now.”

The sound of steps the pavement grew louder as they flattened themselves against the wall. In silent agreement, they drew their guns and aimed toward the end of the alley. Bucky inhaled sharply and cocked his gun as the steps grew even louder until the figure at the end came into view with a gun in hand.

The comms crackled to life. “Tell me this is you,” she hissed.

They lowered their guns and Sam spoke, “It’s us.”

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna cover me?” 

Sam rolled his eyes and began scanning the rooftops as Bucky raised his gun again and looked down the street. “Clear up top,” Sam said.

“Clear down here for now,” Bucky agreed.

She quickly walked toward them and smiled. She reached up to wipe the blood from her nose and gingerly touched the fresh cut on her lip. “Why do they always go for the face? And what sense does that make? I pull a gun and you punch me in the face?”

Sam opened the door and glared at her, “Why did you pull a weapon in the middle of that club? You could’ve left without a trace.”

She walked in and started up the stairs behind them and into their surveillance setup, “He put his hand up my skirt.”

Bucky whipped around and looked at her bewilderedly, “What?”

“He tried to touch my thigh,” she said mockingly. “Was I just supposed to let him?”

“No,” Sam replied apologetically as they started breaking down the equipment. 

Bucky checked the window while she continued to nurse her nose with the arm of her shirt. He watched as they Hydra agents left the club and fanned down the street. “We should go, they know who you are now.”

Her eyes darkened, “He knew the minute he tried to touch the scar on my neck.”

“We’ll debrief when we get back to the jet,” Sam replied quickly.

She stared at the floor as she pulled her pants on over her skirt. “Did I do okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s heart sank as Sam nodded toward her and mouthed, “Do something.”

Bucky shrugged as Sam rolled his eyes and pointed in her direction. He closed the gap between them and pulled her into a hug. “Yeah, doll,” he said, kissing her forehead, “you did fine.”

“You’re a far better wingman than Barnes, that’s for sure. And you should’ve seen his face while you were talking to that guy —“

“Shut the fuck up,” Bucky snapped.

She leaned back from him and smiled, “James Barnes, were you —“

“You shut the fuck up, too.”

“Awfully big feelings for someone who won’t call someone else his girlfriend,” Sam teased as they prepared for their extraction team’s arrival.


	14. Chapter 14

“A gun in a civilian club,” Fury mumbled at the tail end of their debrief. He glared at Bucky and Sam across the table, “Is this your idea of ‘reining her in?’” When neither of them answered, he continued, changing his pointed glare to her this time, “Reckless.”

“Why are you so hard on me?” she asked as she shook her head

Bucky and Sam shared a look. Neither of them had ever dared to question Fury’s mind games. 

Fury made a face, “I treat you no different than any other operative we’ve had. You were selected to be on a team with what’s left of Earth’s greatest defenders —“

“What’s left,” she interrupted, “is what you have. And there’s value there. Just because you don’t have Rogers, Stark, or Romanoff doesn’t mean that this team is any less great.”

“I never said —“

“— what you should be doing is capitalizing on the strength that you have, not trying to replace what you’ve all lost.”

The room fell silent. Sam leaned back in his chair, idly twiddling his thumbs, while Bucky tried his best not to stare at her. The confidence that backed her words was fading as she shrank into her seat, looking away from all of them.

“You’re right,” Fury said in a low voice. Without another word, he grabbed the intel folder and left the room.

Sam, without so much as a glance at either of them, asked in disbelief, “Did he just agree with you?”

She shrugged, wide-eyed, and shook her head, “I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

“I think you caused an existential crisis,” he chuckled.

She slumped in her chair and rested her forehead on the table. “Fantastic. I excel in shooting and emasculation. Put that on my resume because I’m definitely fired.”

Bucky put a gentle hand in her shoulder and gave a weak smile. “I don’t think he’d do that,” he said unconvincingly. 

She must’ve noticed his false tone, because she turned her head to give him a murderous stare. “Why do you both spend so much time making excuses for me? I did a shit job, I said a shit thing.” She stood up and turned toward the door. “I have to go get Riggs. I’ll meet you outside.”

The entire route back to their home was uncomfortably silent. Even Sam’s attempts at conversation fell flat. As they turned down the familiar unsaved path, Bucky felt light pressure on the right arm of his jacket. Curiously, he dropped his hand into the space between his seat and the back row where his fingers were gently laced between hers moments later. He bit his lip to hide his smile and looked in the side mirror to see her resting her forehead on the window with a lazy smile across her lips.

Other than that, she didn’t speak much beyond directing Riggs inside and heading straight for her room. Sam dropped onto the couch and sighed, “At least we get three days off.”

Bucky sat down on the opposite couch and smirked. “What’re you plannin’ to add to your training regimen?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

He quirked a brow. “You aren’t gonna train?”

“No.”

Bucky paused, trying to sort out Sam’s train of thought. He’d never neglected training before, especially when he knew there was a threat after a mission. “But there’s so much to do,” he said quietly.

“Later.” Sam leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. “I think we’ve all earned a break, don’t you? Maybe you could take her out or something.”

“ _Me?_ ” Bucky asked incredulously, “Aren’t you the one who usually takes care of that stuff?”

“Y’know, for someone who frequently refers to me as Bird-Brain, you’re a fucking idiot.” He sat up and glared at him, “Take her to Arlington tomorrow and then take her out. I’ll watch the damn dog.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I just did.”

Before he could respond, they heard her swiftly coming down the hallway. When she reached the living room, she stood in the doorway with her fists clenched, her chest rising and falling shakily. She wasn’t speaking, only looking between the two of them nervously.

“Hello?” Sam replied with a laugh. He shot Bucky a look, reminding him of his orders.

“Hi,” she breathed. “Barnes, I —“

The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he could catch them. “Do you wanna go out with me tomorrow?”

She furrowed her brows. “What? You wanna go shooting? A run?” 

“No!” Bucky shook his head furiously, “No, uh, like, with me.”

“Where would we go?”

“I dunno, I didn’t plan that far ahead.” He looked at Sam with pleading eyes, but only received a slow nod in return. He turned back to her and gave a half-smile.

“I have to go to —“

“—Arlington.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go with you,” he offered.

She looked at Sam and smiled. “D’you wanna come with, Sam? I know a great place where —“

“Can’t,” Sam interrupted, “I promised Riggs I’d take him out tomorrow. And then I’ve got this receptionist to call.” He smiled and winked at her, “I’m booked.”

She didn’t say anything for what felt like an exceedingly long time. Rocking back and forth on her heels a few times, she finally looked at Bucky and spoke. “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” She looked at Sam and smiled nervously, “Are you sure we don’t have to train or anything?”

“We get three days.”

“Right,” she said softly. “We always train.”

“Take a day off,” Sam said seriously.

Bucky deflated at her attempts to escape his offer. He felt like rescinding his invitation and chalking it up to hitting his head on the jet on the way home. Just as he was about to do so, she laughed. Genuinely. 

“What’s funny?” Bucky asked

“Yeah,” Sam added, “I wanna laugh too.”

She shook her head, still laughing. “I was coming out here to yell at Bucky for something stupid. But, he caught me off-guard.” Her laughing spell ended, but her smiled lingered, wider and brighter than he’d seen. “Yes, I think that’s a great idea. And we can even skip the visit tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked as he exchanged a glance with Sam, “That’s your post-mission thing.”

“It is,” she agreed, “but dead family visit and a date don’t exactly breed a romantic aura.”

“You do appreciate the unconventional,” Sam countered.

“Not all the fucking time!” She let out another laugh, “Remember: semi-normal existence before you two.”

“So, you two are going on a normal date,” Sam said with approval. “What exactly constitutes ‘normal’ for you? Guns tucked in bras and waistbands?”

“Wilson,” Bucky warned.

“I’m just asking,” he replied defensively. 

She chuckled, “Don’t be silly. Bras are where you hide switchblades.” She gestured to her chest, mimicking the action of scooping a breast upward, “You just lift one of them up, tuck it in there, and you’re good to go.”

Sam stared in abject horror as Bucky doubled-over in laughter. “She’s joking, right?”

Bucky composed himself and shrugged, “I don’t wear bras, so I can’t tell you for sure.”

“You’re joking, right?”

She shrugged innocently, “Guess I’ll let Barnes find that out and report back to you.” She winked at him and his breath stilled in his chest.

Sam made a face, “Okay, if you two are gonna be a thing, there needs to be rules. No dirty talk in common areas.”

With a smug smile, she turned around and started back toward her room. “Goodnight, gentlemen.”


	15. Chapter 15

Sam leaned against Bucky’s doorway and rolled his eyes, “Do you own nice clothes?”

“What’s wrong with these?” Bucky asked, gesturing to the simple long sleeve shirt, black jeans, and boots he’d chosen.

Pushing himself off of the doorway, Sam strode over to the closet. “You look like you’re going to a training session.” He shifted the hangers, searching for a more palatable substitute. “Here,” he grunted, throwing a shirt at Bucky’s head, “buttons are a good indicator that you gave a shit.”

Bucky pulled his shirt over his head and slipped his arms into the one that Sam had chosen. Down the hall, they heard the muffled bass of her playlist and shared a laugh. “I feel weird. I dunno, is this a good idea?”

“That’s called nervousness, my friend. And for good reason - you know she’s gonna clean up well.”

“Thanks,” Bucky deadpanned as he buttoned the shirt and looked in the mirror. He raised a brow in approval. Dark blue was still his color.

“Just saying,” Sam sighed. “D’you know where you’re gonna take her?” When Bucky shook his head, Sam ran a hand down his face. “You had all night —“

“I thought I’d let her choose,” Bucky defended.

“Cheap, but it makes sense.”

“It does?”

“You don’t know much of anything. Ever. And when it comes to modern women, specifically one who’s, well, her, you wouldn’t know the first thing about taking her out.” Sam replied coolly. “Besides, it’s the first time she gets any freedom. Let her take you along for the ride.”

“Right.” Bucky winced, “Is that the best pep talk you’ve got?”

Sam chuckled, “By some miracle, she already likes you. You’ve slept in the same bed. You’ve kissed. You’re doing it all backwards and you don’t need a pep talk.”

Consumed by their own conversation, neither of them noticed that the music had stopped and she was standing in the doorway, smiling nervously. It wasn’t until Riggs jumped onto Bucky’s bed and barked at Sam that they realized she was there. 

Just like their previous mission, she stunned them both into silence. Bucky couldn’t help but take a slow look at her, noting the way her makeup highlighted her best features. A sheer, black corset-like top that revealed her shoulders and a tantalizing amount of skin made him inhale sharply. Paired with sleek black jeans tucked into her thigh high boots and her leather jacket draped over her shoulders reminded him that, despite agreeing to this date, she was fully out of his league.

Sam nudged Bucky hard in the ribs. “She asked if you’re ready,” he mumbled quietly enough that she couldn’t hear.

“Oh,” Bucky grunted, “uh, yeah.” His agreement sounded far too uncomfortable and she shook her head and laughed in response. “You look nice.” She smelled different than usual, the perfect mix of woodsy and fresh. “And you smell nice.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Sam, “Do I not usually smell nice?”

“You smell great all the time,” Sam laughed. “What he means is that he thinks you’re pretty.”

“Oh,” she scoffed, looking at Bucky again. “Thanks. You also look nice.” Her expression changed to a mix of surprise and approval. “I like the button-up.”

“See? Gave a shit,” Sam hissed.

“Shut the fuck up.” Walking toward her, he nodded in the direction of the front door. “Shall we?” She nodded eagerly and followed him.

“No work talk!” Sam called after them, “No guns! No knives! And don’t come home!”

Bucky stuck up his middle finger behind his back with a smug grin, almost missing that she was doing the same thing.

True to his word, he let her decide their plans. She directed him to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, laughing at his expense when he couldn’t pass through the metal detector without a full search. She listened intently while he aligned 70 years’ worth of stories and experiences with much of the technology on display. In turn, he humored her when she explained the more modern crafts, assuming he wasn’t as familiar with those. He was, but her excitement was enough to get him to play along. When she spoke, her passion lit up her face and pushed a glittering smile across her lips, which he couldn’t resist stealing kisses from when he could.

She quickly regretted suggesting pizza after it spurred a three-minute monologue about how even the places boasting the best New York style pizza couldn’t hold a candle to his favorite place in Brooklyn. Instead, they opted for sushi and split a cheesecake. Bucky couldn’t help it, when it came to the superior foods of New York City, his taste was unmatched.

When she took the keys from his pocket after dinner, she swore she had the best surprise. Without a second thought, he let her lead the way.

“You ever think about what you’d be like if your life wasn’t what it is now?” she asked, making yet another a sharp turn

“Assuming you don’t end it in this car —“

“Rude,” she cut in. “But really, this whole thing’s gotta end one day, and then what do we do?”

“ _We?_ ” he asked with curiosity 

“Yeah, not necessarily, um, me and you together,” she said clumsily. “Like, if you ran away with no intention of being found. I always say I’d go to the last place anyone could ever imagine, but I’ve always seen myself and Riggs somewhere secluded where there are lots of trees, maybe a lake nearby. It’d rain and snow a lot so I could appreciate the sun. And Riggs could dig as many holes in the yard —“ She trailed off, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I sound stupid and shouldn’t have asked.”

Bucky shook his head, “No, I’m glad you did.” He smiled in amusement, “I like your idea. Hell, I don’t even know what my goal is beyond fighting Hydra or dismantling global systems.”

She winced and groaned, “Oh God, I’ve caused another existential crisis!”

He laughed, “I think I’m always having one.”

“Me too,” she giggled. “But, I think I can help you fix yours. Mine? Not so much. But yours? Definitely.” She pulled into a parking spot and got out, sprinting around to his side of the car.

“Do not open that door,” he said through the window. Before he could reach for the handle, she opened the passenger door. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

She grinned and held out a hand, “I excel in emasculation and existential crises, remember?”

“I hate you,” he grunted as he closed the door behind him.

Still smiling, she said a very simple, “Liar.” She started walking away quickly, forcing him to take bigger strides to catch up with her. “You’re quite taken with me, James!” she called over her shoulder.

“Why do you assume that?”

She ducked underneath his left arm, catching him off-guard as he quickly switched to the other side, and beamed up at him. “You look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re quite taken with me.”

He couldn’t muster a response beyond a crooked smile, walking with her in silence. He recognized the path instantly. “You brought me to see the memorials?”

She stopped walking abandoning her place under his arm and leaving him suddenly cold. “I like them!” she huffed

“I spent a lot of time in this park,” he explained, “I know them all.”

“They’re better at night ... at least, I think so.”

With a weak smile, he held out his hand, “Show me your favorite one.”

She smiled widely and, to his surprise, hooked her arm around his left. He frowned at first, but decided to let it go when she didn’t seem to notice and continued down the path to the Vietnam Women’s Memorial. “This one,” she said quietly, letting go of his arm.

He’d never seen this one before. It was a bit off of the main path, so it made sense that he hadn’t come across it. Approaching it slowly, he studied its design. His gaze focused on the woman cradling the wounded soldier with his face bandaged and arm hanging limply over the sandbags. “It’s like you can hear the scene,” he said over his shoulder.

“That’s why I love it,” she replied proudly, stepping closer to him. She began pointing to the other women surrounding them. “She’s calling for more help. She’s looking for more supplies. And she’s —“

“—tellin’ him that everything’s gonna be okay,” he finished. He turned to look at her and closed the distance between them. “I think this is now in my top three favorites,” he said in a low voice.

With a nervous smile she stammered, “F-FDR’s is my second favorite.”

Pleasantly surprised, he took a step backwards. “Really? Why’s that?”

She shrugged and sighed, “I dunno. He was really up against it, y’know? Bullshit from the Great Depression and then bam! Second World War. All while hopping on the radio and telling everyone that everything was gonna be okay? Despite his flaws, that’s still something.”

“Yeah, it was.” He drifted into a memory again. This time, the moment he said goodbye to Steve before shipping out to Italy. Absentmindedly, his hand drifted to his left arm, longing to feel the push of his hand against his jacket. But it never came.

“Hey,” he heard her say quietly. “Where’d you go?”

He shook his head dismissively and snaked an arm around her waist. “Nowhere I need to be right now.”

“The ever-mysterious Winter Soldier,” she teased, moving closer to him.

He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. “These are really cool at night,” he agreed.

“Told you,” she sang. She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the path, “C’mon. One last stop.”

He found himself sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial with her on the step below tucked tightly between his knees. He looked out at the Reflection Pool, fixing his eyes on the illuminated Washington Memorial and smiled. “This is close to where Steve met Sam on a run.”

“Poor Sam,” she giggled. She turned around and rested her head on his thigh with a sad smile on her face. “You miss him, don’t you?”

He shrugged, “He’s still around.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. He sighed. “Sam’s my best friend, but Steve —“

“—was your brother.”

“Yeah,” he deadpanned, “that.”

“Siblings,” she began, her gaze growing distant, “they’re supposed to be inseparable. Friends are nice, lovers are cool, but if there’s anyone who knows all the shit you’ve gone through and still might love you? It’s them.”

For the first time, he didn’t pay mind to which hand he moved toward her. He pushed a stray hair that had fallen in front of her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb, swearing that he could feel the warmth of her skin. “I’m sorry about your brother. And your dad.”

“Thank you.”

“We can can go to Arlington tomorrow and tell them all about Saturday,” he offered, his hand still not moving away from her face.

She shook her head and let out a quiet laugh, “No, we can stay home. Riggs is getting a little hardheaded with all the time we’ve been spending apart.”

“Blame Sam,” he mumbled. He drew a deep breath as he realized what she’d just said. “Are you sure? I really don’t mind. I know it’s important to you.”

“I think they’ll be okay,” she reassured him with a small smile. She covered his hand with hers and sighed, “Besides, I figured out that I need to make time for all of the things that are important to _me_ — not just me _and_ them.”

He pulled her in close and smiled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re quite taken with me.”

“Well,” she scoffed, “unlike you, I’m not a liar. So yes, I am.” Her kiss was electric, sending warm waves of current through his body. If there was ever a moment he wished he could relive for the first time again and again, it was that one.

She shivered as they pulled away from each other and she cuddled in closer. He kissed the top of her head and smiled. “You’re cold.”

“I’m only getting heat from one of your arms,” she teased. “We should probably head back.”

He nodded, “We should.”

When neither of them moved, she looked up at him and smiled. “Or,” she suggested, “we could not.”

“And do what?”

“We could run away.”

He studied her half-serious face for a moment. For the first time, he could see it: a normal, quiet life; much like the one Steve had chased after without looking back. Her, him, and Riggs together in that place she’d described earlier. He’d let her pick wherever she wanted. He wouldn’t have to wear a leather jacket all the time or hide guns around the house — but probably still would because she’d undoubtedly want to. Whatever she wanted, he’d give to her.

The thought alone was equal parts fucking terrifying and exciting.

She squeezed his cheeks with one hand and mocked him innocently. “Always brooding.”

He gave her a half-smile as an idea popped into his head. “We can’t run, but I have somewhere where we can go.”


	16. Chapter 16

Waking up next to her in the guest room of Sam’s old condo with her lying naked against his chest, Bucky could do nothing else other than recount the night before. The way her hair fell into his face; the look in her eyes; the feeling of her skin against his; the way she’d said his name a dozen times over — it was bliss.

She stirred against him, exhaling sleepily before propping her chin up on his chest to look at him. “Morning,” she said sweetly.

He smiled, “Morning.” He leaned forward and she met him in the middle with a soft kiss. 

“We’re naked,” she giggled, checking under the blanket to confirm.

“Sure are,” he replied awkwardly, feeling suddenly and uncomfortably visible in the streams of light coming through the blinds. 

She gently traced absentminded circles into his chest, her fingers dancing their way to the scars where metal fused with flesh. “So, ‘Manchurian Candidate,’ huh?” she began, recalling the nickname he was assigned by the A.I. system that was revealed after the retinal scan on the condo’s security system. “Fitting.”

“Ha.” In a swift move, he switched places with her, pinning her underneath him as she burst into a fit of giggles. Just as he moved to kiss her again, a new voice filled the air.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. You have a phone call,” F.R.I.D.A.Y said.

“Dammit,” he groaned, burying his face into her shoulder.

“Why don’t we have an A.I. at our place?” she asked quietly

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s an urgent call from Sam Wilson.”

“That’s why,” he mumbled before picking his head up. “Put him through.” He rolled over into the space next to her and flexed his metal arm a few times, letting the plates warm up and, in his mind, stretch as they waited for Sam’s teasing.

But it never came. Instead, a different, older voice filled the room. “Hey, Buck.”

Bucky sat up at once, startling her. “Steve? What’re you doing on Sam’s line?”

“Figured I’d come out to see you,” Steve said coolly, “but you’re not here.” Before Bucky could respond with an excuse, Steve spoke again. “I hope you two are plannin’ on coming back. I’d like to meet her in person. Clothed.”

She let out an embarrassed gasp and tucked herself under the covers. “Um, good morning, Captain Rogers,” she said into the air, nearly yelling, “sir.” She glared at Bucky, who shook his head furiously. “Steve? Cap?”

“We’re on our way back, Steve. See you soon.” When they were sure the line was disconnected, they quickly redressed.

As they walked toward the front door, she froze. “Hey, FRIDAY?” she nervously called over her shoulder, “You don’t, like, watch stuff, do you?”

“Sergeant Barnes disconnected my cameras so I don’t have eyes, ma’am,” FRIDAY said simply. “But, I can hear everything.”

“Great,” she frowned as Bucky withheld a laugh and led her back to the SUV.

The car ride home was eerily silent. Bucky wasn’t fond of reality — or anyone, for that matter — sneaking up on him. Between an unnaturally extended lifetime, an alien invasion, and the loss of his friend, he at least expected a warning from Steve.

Bucky rode the brake as they pulled up to the house. The pressure of Steve’s visit weighed on him, but he knew it was crushing her when she asked whether she should sneak in through the back so she wouldn’t have to wear the same outfit she left in. He reassured her that Steve wouldn’t care, but she wasn’t easily convinced.

Steve and Sam were leaning against the railing of the front porch in conversation, giving twin small waves as they came into view. Riggs was lazily sunbathing in the grass, only perking up as the car got closer. She screeched and ducked under the dashboard.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” she hissed. She took a deep breath and sat up straight, a tight and uncomfortable smile pressed to her lips.

“For someone who claims to be fearless, you look awfully scared,” he muttered teasingly.

“Shut up.” She looked at herself in the visor mirror for a second before opening the door. Riggs stood dutifully outside of the car, eagerly awaiting her exit. “I’m about to meet Captain America.”

He thought about kissing her, but he knew she’d likely barrel roll out of the car in an effort to dodge him. Instead, he gave her a nod and opened the door. He couldn’t help but smile at his old friend. “Didn’t think you were makin’ house calls!”

“Only if two-thirds of the people I wanna see don’t answer,” Steve said as he walked over to them. He pulled Bucky into a tight hug.

“Shitty dad joke,” Bucky chuckled. “Is that what you’re into now?”

Before Steve could come up with a snide remark, she cut in, surprising them both. “Don’t even pretend that you’re into anything better.” Her face quickly turned remorseful, “Shit, sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve laughed, “No, it’s good for Buck to have someone humble him.” He held out a hand to her, “Steve Rogers.”

She took his hand and introduced herself, her voice cracking in the middle of their exchange. Bucky tried to keep himself from laughing, but failed and earned a glare in his direction. She tucked her hair behind her ear and shifted uncomfortably, obviously calculating the distance between her and the front door.

Steve cleared his throat and grinned, “Looking for a quick out?”

“What? No,” she stuttered. “I’m just, uh.” She turned to Sam, who was snickering on the porch, then gestured to Riggs. “This is my dog and he probably needs to be reprogrammed after a night with Sam so I should —“

“Use him as an excuse to leave?” Steve teased

Bucky lowered his voice, “Don’t scare her, Stevie.” He looked at her and waved toward the door, “You wanted to change, right?”

She let out a relieved breath and nodded before darting up the stairs and into the house with Riggs following closely behind her. Steve smiled slyly, the wrinkles in his face etching even deeper. “Surprise?”

“You could’ve called,” Bucky said, leading the rest of them into the house. He couldn’t help but notice that, despite the elderly facade, Steve still walked with the same confident swagger as he had before. It still struck him that he hadn’t grown old alongside his longtime friend; that he’d lived an entire lifetime with the love of his life and left his two friends to pick up the pieces. He’d fought back his anger and misery, burying them underneath training and missions, but every time Steve came to visit, he felt as it itched the corners of his mind.

“So, Cap,” Sam said as Bucky sat next to him, gesturing to the opposite couch, “not that you aren’t allowed to visit your own house, but usually you give a courtesy call.”

Steve shrugged as he sat down, “I promise that Fury didn’t send me here.” He studied Bucky for a moment and leaned back against the couch. “You look good, Buck.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said flatly. “Bird-Brain convinced me to get a haircut.”

Steve nodded slowly before leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, new teammate — any good?”

Sensing the rising tension, Sam intervened. “She’s here, so I think that speaks for itself.”

“Good. That’s good. I thought she would be.”

Bucky’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Steve looked briefly hurt. “You really think I’d let my two best friends go through this timeline without me making sure they’d be alright?” He shook his head and sat up again. “You gotta have higher expectations of me.”

“To be fair, I don’t really know what to expect in this timeline anymore,” Bucky muttered just loudly enough for them to hear.

“I thought you understood the choice I made. You encouraged me to do it.”

Bucky sighed, “I understood just fine. I just —“ He paused for a moment, knowing if he finished his thought, Steve’s guilt would eat away at him until he died. 

Based on the look on Steve’s face, he already knew. “I couldn’t bring you with me, Buck.”

“And leave me here alone?” Sam asked in disbelief 

“Sam,” she teased as she walked in, startling all of them, “you and I were absolutely destined to be in each other’s lives in this timeline.” The three of them looked up suddenly to see her leaning against the wall, freshly showered and changed. “Sorry, I was eavesdropping. I should take Riggs for a walk or something.”

Steve stood up, causing Bucky and Sam to do the same. “Why don’t we all go? It’ll give you and me a chance to talk?”

Riggs wasted no time running to the front door, much to her chagrin. “Riggs, attention.” The dog snapped into place, sitting proudly next to the door and waiting for her command. “You ruined my dog, Sam,” she teased.

“I let him be a dog for a day.”

She rolled her eyes and led them out the door. “If he trampled through the mud, you’re washing him.”

The four of them followed Riggs through the woods, watching him investigate and explore every so often. She and Steve walked together in front, talking quietly amongst themselves, while Sam and Bucky trailed behind.

“So,” Sam said smugly, “you two have fun last night?”

“Yes.”

Sam stopped walking. “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna tell me?”

“Yes.”

“You know she’s gonna tell me,” Sam said matter-of-factly once he caught up with him. “And answer any weird questions I have.”

“Exactly why I’m not telling you anything.”

Sam nudged him playfully with his elbow. “And then you want me to tell you what she says.”

Bucky made a pathetic attempt to glare at him, but failed. “Yes.”

“I knew it.”

The afternoon sun warmed their backs as they walked back to the house and continued their visit. Bucky was unsurprised at how well she eased the tension between their former trio, asking them all to trade embarrassing stories about one another. There was an unspoken competition to see who had the best story to make her laugh the most, clearly tying between the tales of pre-Serum Steve, Bucky the Casanova, and Sam as the guy who got far more than he ever bargained for.

“Sam,” she said suddenly, “I have an idea!”

“What’s that?”

“You,” she suggested, grabbing her phone from the coffee table, “and Agent 13.”

“What?” the three of them exclaimed

“You heard me. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”

“No.” Sam shook his head, “No way.”

She raised a brow, “I see how she looks at you, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy and no.”

She stood up and wordlessly marched past them toward her room, a mischievous grin on her face. “You’ve got exactly three seconds to stop me from calling,” she sang over her shoulder.

Sam scrambled to his feet and chased after her, reaching her door just in time for it to slam in his face. As he pounded on the door, Steve and Bucky shook their heads and looked at each other with matching smirks on their faces. “She’s a great pick,” Steve said.

“S’not the same without you, Stevie.”

“No,” he replied, “but it can be even better than that. And based on the way she looks at you, I think it already is.”

Bucky smiled briefly before frowning. “I think Hydra killed her family. And I think I knew her father. I don’t know how or why, but I just do.”

“Does she know that?” When Bucky shook his head, Steve let out a strained sigh. “Sometimes we hide things to protect people we care about. You and I know that better than anyone.”

“I know.”

“Just be ready for the fallout, because if you’re not, it’ll tear all of you apart.” Steve patted his shoulder gently. 

Sam walked in with her struggling over his shoulder. “She actually called and tried to arrange a date with me and Agent 13!”

“Her name is Sharon,” she heaved, punching him in the back. “Put me down or I’ll bite you.”

Sam dropped her onto the floor and laughed. She kicked his helping hand away and pulled herself up. “Relax,” she said mockingly, “she heard you yelling behind the door and figured it was a joke. She did sound interested, though.”

Sam paused with a quizzical expression. “She did?”

“Thick as thieves?” Steve asked Bucky quietly

Bucky rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Sometimes they sing, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding a little Old-Man Steve to the mix was a lot of fun to write! Thanks for reading! :)


	17. Chapter 17

After her latest standoff with Fury, the trio found themselves assigned far more intricate missions. From routine base infiltrations to undercover reconnaissance, they were no longer fumbling around hunting for the ghosts and dregs of Hydra, but chasing their top operatives and leaders. They trained relentlessly, creating new maneuvers that suited all three of them. 

They finally found their team’s rhythm.

She and Bucky found their romantic and physical rhythms as well, much to Sam’s chagrin. He’d tried to make new house rules, only to have them broken hours later. He was beginning to think they were doing it on purpose.

Their newest mission was nothing out of the ordinary: get into Hydra’s base and find information on Zemo. But the coordinates were off a smidge, leaving her to set up on the rooftop of the building Sam and Bucky were supposed to be fighting their way into. 

By the time they’d realized their mistake and gave the order to pull out, she’d already repelled down, determined to see the mission through. Without hesitation, Bucky hauled ass after her, but found himself outgunned and needed Sam’s backup.

So, they waited atop the adjacent building. And waited. 

The contrast of silence from the comms and chaos from inside the building sent Bucky into unthinkable rage. He wished Sam would use what he’d taught him long ago and release the now-dormant beast. He could end the agony in minutes.

“Say the words, Wilson,” he said darkly as he paced slowly in front of his friend.

“What?”

“Say the goddamn words!”

Realizing what Bucky was saying, Sam backed away from him and extended his wings. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t lose you too.”

“I can get her outta there. We know I can.”

“No. You’d kill everyone inside, including her.” He hovered above the ground for a moment and shook his head. “I’m gonna take a lap. Wait here.”

Before Bucky could push further, the comms crackled to life.

“Hey, Sam?” she breathed 

“Talk to me,” Sam replied, landing next to him. 

At the sound of her voice, Bucky scrambled to put a finger to his own earpiece. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Easy, Barnes,” she panted. “I’m talking to Wilson. Do you remember that thing we practiced at the Compound?”

Sam’s eyes widened. “We only did that a handful of times!”

“I’m pinned down and coming up the stairs to the roof. Wait for my signal.”

Bucky looked at Sam, a mix of fury and panic in his voice, “What’s she talkin’ about?”

Sam unfolded his wings again and stepped on the ledge. “A dumbass idea.”

The metal door clamored open, sending a sharp screech into the night air. Bucky pulled his gun from his back and steeled himself for whatever was coming next. “She can’t make the jump,” Bucky said, eyeing the street below.

“No, she can’t,” Sam mumbled.

“On my signal, Sam!” she called as her footfalls grew louder. “You Hydra boys sure know how to keep a girl on her toes!” she laughed

“What’s the —“

They watched in awe as she backflipped off the building’s ledge into a free fall. There was no time to gawk. Sam sprang into action, grabbing her under her arms before she could fall any further. She hung like a rag doll in his grip as he veered around another building.

“Yes!” she cheered, causing Bucky to release a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He ducked below the ledge as the agents in pursuit looked around the rooftops.

“That was the signal?!" Sam yelled

"Bring us back around," she panted.

"What? No!"

"Do it."

Sam groaned frustratedly. "I'm getting really sick of you two and your hare-brained schemes tonight."

"Sam."

Bucky understood. He provided cover fire as she and Sam flew into view. In a stunning display involving dual-wielded mini-guns, they took out the last of the Hydra agents on the roof. All while she laughed and smiled. 

“While that was cool,” Sam chided as they landed next to Bucky, “don’t ever pull that shit again.”

She dropped her backpack and rifle. “Why not? You caught me, just like I knew you would.”

“You could’ve died,” he said coldly. 

She shook her head in disbelief and turned to Bucky with a shrug. “Thoughts?”

“None.” Bucky picked up her backpack and thrusted her rifle back into her hands. “Let’s go.”

She rolled her eyes and followed behind them. “To be fair, you were the ones who wanted me to do more recon. I was perfectly fine being the Eyes on the Hill.”

Bucky turned swiftly on his heels, only inches from her face. “We do it all,” he said in a low voice. “As a _team_. When he,” he said, pointing to Sam with his thumb, “says we don’t go, we don’t fucking go.”

Her breaths quickened as her nostrils flared and jaw clenched. “Fear,” she spat, “doesn’t derail my mission, Barnes. I did what needed to done, just like you used to.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a USB drive, slamming it into his chest. “Here. I don’t know what’s on it.” She looked between him and Sam. “But whatever it is, they just fought like hell and fucking died to keep it.” She trudged past them without a second glance.

Sam let out a small laugh and Bucky glared at him. “One of us is sleeping outside, and, if it’s me, that’s because I’m choosing not to deal with you two making up.”

“I have my own room,” Bucky muttered as he followed her path.

With the tension, they told Fury they could debrief after finding out the contents of the USB drive. He reluctantly agreed after she announced that she’d be staying at the Compound. When Sam and Bucky pulled him aside and explained their argument, to which he laughed and called them idiots.

“Even _I_ wouldn’t have gotten angry at that one,” he’d said, much to their surprise. “She made sure you accomplished the mission, which used to be your concern.”

A few days later, he called them to return. He led the two of them to a different conference room than usual. She was already there with Riggs by her side, slumped in her chair and scrolling through her phone.

“Morning,” Bucky grunted as he dropped into the chair across from her. Riggs let out a low growl, stopping only when she put a hand to his collar. Her eyes narrowed at Bucky before returning to her phone.

Sam tried to sit down next to her, but she kicked the chair and rolled it further down the table. He sighed and sat in it anyway, sighing as he looked at Bucky.

It wasn’t the way she looked at him that upset him; after all, she was always glaring at one or both of them. No. It was the way she’d ripped herself from his life and refused to talk to him. Every attempt he’d made to contact her went unanswered and now he knew that it wasn’t because she didn’t have her phone on her. 

Ignoring the obvious, Fury pulled up a large holographic map, enlarging it to fill the table. “It took a while, but this is what we’ve got.”

She put her phone down and leaned forward for a closer look with a scrutinizing expression. “It’s missing a part,” she said flatly, pointing to an empty space.

“Correct,” Fury agreed with a firm nod. “But I’m willing to bet that piece is on another drive in one of their op cells.”

“So,” Sam began, “find the part, find Zemo.”

“Correct again.”

Bucky examined the map and shook his head. “It looks like —“

“Sokovia,” she whispered shakily. “This is Sokovia.”

Fury clapped his hands slowly. “A winner, lady and gentlemen.”

Riggs growled again before she quieted him. “This looks pretty good though, right? We could work from this and get him,” she said confidently.

Suspicion etched across Fury’s face, darkening his expression. “We don’t send teams in with incomplete intel. Not even the ones who think they’re smarter than the system they work for.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes, slouching in her chair. “Then, give us the next base and we’ll go.”

“There’s something else,” Fury said coolly as he swiped the map away from view. He brought up a collection of digital folders, opening one titled ‘#16402’ and revealing a large number of contents. He looked at Sam and Bucky. “We also found these on the drive.” He tapped on a video and it started to play.

The footage was grainy, like a home movie. A little girl and boy sitting in matching high-chairs threw food at each other as a sweet-voiced woman yelled for them to stop. The camera turned to show its filmmaker: a young, exasperated woman with the same eyes as the two children. “Your kids, sweetheart,” she chuckled. “ _Lucas, stop!_ Anyway, we miss you. Be safe!”

With a confused expression that matched Sam’s, Bucky looked at her across the table. Her eyes were wide and face pale. She looked like she was going to vomit. “Where did you get this?”

Fury played another video, this time of the same children leaving hand-in-hand for their first day of school. Then, another of the entire family shooting at scrap metal in the yard. Then, another. And, another. An entire discography of a very happy family flashed before their eyes.

Bucky watched as silent tears streamed down her face. “That’s enough, Fury.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “get to the point.”

Fury opened a sub folder and multiple pictures of her scattered into the air above the table. Her at a bar with friends; her visiting at Arlington; her and Riggs walking; her and Bucky sleeping in her room.

“Why do you have these?” she squeaked

The files disappeared and Fury rested his knuckles on the table. “Why would Hydra need these?”

“I don’t know.”

Sam looked at Fury pointedly. “Where is this going?”

Bucky shook his head, “We’ve known they’re after her, Nick.”

“Hydra can catch anyone they want, you all know that,” Fury said matter-of-factly. “Why not you?”

She shook her head slowly, tears still fresh on her cheek. “I. Don’t. Know.” The hair on Riggs’s back stood up straight as he bowed his head low to the ground.

“A girl with elite military training, a dog, and a sob story just so happened to find an opportunity in our system? And is sleeping with her teammate?”

Bucky slammed his metal fist against the table. “Stop.”

Fury shrugged. “Well, until you can figure it out, you’re benched.”

“What?!" the three of them exclaimed in unison.

Bucky scoffed, "You're kidding."

"I don't kid, Barnes."

"You’re gonna drop us down to two right when we’re about to find Zemo?”

Fury shrugged, “You won’t be down to two.”

“What’re you —“

The conference room door opened and Peter Parker walked in, phone in hand. “You sent me a page, Mr. Fury?” He looked around the room and gave an awkward wave after noticing the tension. “Hey, guys.”

“Nope,” Sam blurted out. “No.”

Bucky lowered his voice, “You can’t be serious.”

“Still here,” Peter interjected. He turned to Fury, but not before noticing the dog sat back on his haunches in the corner. “Sorry, what’s going on?”

Fury opened his mouth to explain, but she beat him to it. “Congratulations, you’ll be fighting Hydra now.” She stood up and smirked, “Feel free to take my seat.”

“What?”

Fury glared at her and sighed, “You’ll be working with Wilson and Barnes on their next mission. Take the new suit.”

“When?”

“When I call you.”

Peter checked his phone for a moment. “I kinda need a ballpark,” he said quietly. “I have finals next week.”

She cackled, stirring everyone’s attention. “Well, good luck out there.” She called for Riggs and walked toward the door. “Let me know when you’re ready to go home, guys.”

“About that,” Fury said, stopping her in her tracks, “you’ll be continuing your stay here until we get this sorted out.”

She locked eyes with Bucky for the first time in days, who could only muster an apologetic look in return. He looked at Sam to see him shaking his head at the entire ordeal. “Is that necessary?”

“I can’t run the risk of having two of my key operatives alone with her.” His intonation on the last word was laced with distrust. “If you’re cleared, we’ll bring you back into the team.” He gestured to the now-empty seat. “Have a seat, Parker.”

As Peter sat down, Bucky watched as she stormed out of the room. He sat there for a moment as the gravity set in. Fury was taking her away from them. From him.

He stood up and left, ignoring San and Fury’s calls at his back. As he eyed the hallway and listened, he stopped in front of another dark conference room. Invisible to most, he noticed the fresh handprint in the thin layer of dust on the doorknob. Cautiously, he opened the door to find her sitting in the corner with Riggs nudging her face. When she saw him, she buried her face in her hands and let out a wet sob. “Just go.”

He walked across the room hesitantly and knelt down, giving Riggs a gentle scratch behind the ears. “I’m glad we’re friends again, Riggs.”

“I can fix that,” she whispered. She picked her head up and wiped at her cheeks with a rough swipe. “I don’t work for Hydra.”

He stiffened at the mere possibility and moved back. “I know.”

“You don’t,” she replied. “I know you don’t believe that.”

“That’s not true,” he said, his tone betraying him.

She eyed him for a second before jumping to her feet, forcing him to do the same. Suddenly, she shoved him hard in the chest, sending him backwards into a nearby office chair.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, straightening himself.

“Why? You don’t wanna fight me?” She reared an arm back and threw a punch, which he deflected with his metal arm, sending her away from him. She clutched her hand in pain as Riggs barked and lunged.

“I mean it,” he said darkly, clenching his fist.

She let out a dark laugh, “I’m Hydra, right?” She walked toward him. “I’m Hydra. You fucking hate Hydra. Let’s go.” She moved to shove him again, but he caught her hands in his and squeezed them gently.

“Stop it, doll.” He watched her hardened expression melt into tears. Silent sobs racked her chest as she shut her eyes tight. “C’mere,” he whispered, pulling her into him.

Her body shook hard against him as they stood there, only the quiet whirring of his arm filling the silence. Riggs let out a helpless whimper and laid down on the floor. “She’s okay, bud,” he said reassuringly, unsure if it actually calmed him.

“I don’t know why they had all those,” she said with a shaky breath, “those memories. I didn’t even know what Hydra was until all those files showed up on Twitter years ago. And even then, I didn’t care. I had a different mission.” Her tears soaked his shirt. “I don’t work for them, Bucky.”

He took a deep breath and leaned away from her to study her face. He was ashamed that he still couldn’t tell. With a sad smile, he swiped his thumbs across her cheeks. “You’re a mess.”

She nodded and laughed, “I am.”

He pressed a long kiss to her forehead, after which she reached to the back his head and pulled him closer, crashing their lips together. In a frenzy of kisses, he could feel it all: elation, anger, lust, hatred. 

“My room?” she said against his lips, kissing him once more and leaving no room to be denied.


	18. Chapter 18

Working with Peter Parker was fine. On paper, he was the obvious choice. He was efficient, quick thinking, and powerful. With him, they were able to flush out Fury’s ordered Hydra base with ease. Not many had ever dealt with a human spider before, so the initial fear he brought was enough of a distraction. There was also the added perk of his senses saving them from potential ambushes.

Since the death of Stark, Parker had grown up quite a bit. He focused on the mission, tried to work through the base without bloodshed, and proved to be a valuable partner. But he was also incredibly annoying. Anyone else, particularly the now-grounded member of their team, would’ve found him endearing, but to Bucky and Sam, he was annoying. A liability.

Unlike her, he liked the comms (probably the result of fighting most crime as a solo act) and spent most of the mission chatting. He didn’t want much, just to not be alone. Bucky understood, which is why he always stopped Sam from shutting him down. Like the rest of the them, the kid was searching for kinship after the events of only a few months prior.

However, when they landed back at the Compound with the three prisoners he’d taken, they realized how valuable he could be.

“So,” Peter began as the three Hydra agents were hauled away, “what’s next?”

Sam shrugged, “We debrief in the morning and wait for word.”

Peter nodded slowly, unimpressed. “Sounds like an exciting gig.”

“Not as exhilarating as you expected?” Bucky asked, quirking a brow 

“No, nothing like that!” he said quickly. “I guess I just got thought you guys had a bigger job. There’s a whole universe of threats out there and you’re still hunting Nazis.” When they stared at him, his face reddened. “Not that that’s a bad thing!”

Sam sighed, “We do what we’re assigned.”

“Guess Fury is keeping what’s left of us close to the vest, huh?”

Bucky nodded in agreement. “Keep us with what we know and we don’t lose anyone else.”

“And constantly scrutinize anything new?”

Sam patted Peter on the shoulder and started toward the exit, motioning for Bucky to follow. “That went well,” he said in a low voice as the door shut behind them. “I almost forgot what it was like to avoid having a team member get shot.”

“That was one time,” Bucky snapped. 

“Easy, Barnes,” Sam chuckled. “I’d never replace our girl.” Bucky sighed and stared at the floor. “She’s here, y’know. You could just go.”

Bucky shook his head and smiled. “She fucking hates me.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. “I texted her and told her we were on our way back. Guess I thought she’d be —“

“What? Waitin’ on us to come back?”

Sam shrugged as he headed toward his room. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take!”

Once settled in bed, Bucky stared at the ceiling. The phantom pains had returned on the flight home, sending a dull ache through his left arm. It had been months since their last run; the same amount of time since he’d slept next to her for the first time. He reached into his nightstand and grabbed the tennis ball he kept in the drawer. And, just as he used to months before, he began to count.

“One.”

Why did he recognize her father’s name and face?

“Thirteen.”

How did Hydra orchestrate such a messy assassination with too many witnesses?

“Twenty-nine.”

What if she was part of Hydra, sent in to take the team by storm and reclaim their oldest asset?

“Forty.”

Was he in love with her?

“Fifty-thr —“

Pounding on the door interrupted his ritual. He lay still for a second, hoping they’d go away. However, the knocks grew louder.

“Fuck! Okay!” he yelled as he got out of bed. When he opened the door, he was stunned into silence by the sight of her, flanked by two agents on either side and wearing her usual thigh-skimming t-shirt.

She looked just as surprised as he did, wide-eyed and lost for words. “You — uh, this was someone else’s room. So, I thought that —“ She took a deep breath. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He held up the now-flattened ball in his fist. “Sorry about the noise.”

She nodded slowly and gave a weak smile. “It’s not like I’m sleeping much anyway. They’ve got me working with Wanda everyday, so that’s a daily mindfucking.” She glared at the two people beside her. “And these two just stand around me all day.” Her smile faded when he didn’t respond. “Well, goodnight.”

“D’you wanna come in?”

She fought back a smile and looked at the agents again. “Are you two just gonna wait outside or do you need to be dismissed?”

The two of them shared a look and a small shrug. “We’ll be outside of your room,” one of them said.

A sly smile grew across her face. “I knew I liked you, 27.”

“47, but close enough,” he said with a wink that made Bucky’s jaw clench in jealousy.

She gave an innocent shrug, “Keep following me around and I’m bound to get it right.” Giving Bucky a look to move out her way, she took a large step over the threshold into his room and he closed the door behind her. “When’d you get back?”

“Couple hours ago,” he replied. “Sam said he texted and told you. Guess you’ve been busy.”

“No phone,” she said with a shrug. “Guess it’s protocol.”

“Gotta love protocol.”

“Don’t we?” She laughed and sat down on his bed. “So, how did it go?”

He sat down next to her and smiled. “You think just because I’m your —“

“Exceptionally handsome and cagey teammate,” she interjected. 

“Yeah, or,” he sighed encouragingly.

“Or?” She looked at him in confusion, making him feel incredibly small. And stupid. Then, her eyes widened. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Boyfriends call, you know. They don’t leave you in a training facility for a week and half to be followed around by people who don’t trust you.” 

He glared at her, “You know I couldn’t call you.”

She shrugged nonchalantly, “You knew where I was.” 

He knew better than to press further and engage her in a screaming match neither would win. Instead, he grew quiet, letting the silence between them grow heavier by the second. Then, he noticed something.

“Where’s Riggs?” he asked quietly

“Permanently assigned to K-9,” she scoffed. “I get to visit him once a day.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. 

She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter.”

“What did you want me to do? I couldn’t —“

“Defend me?” she snapped, rising to her feet. “You couldn’t defend me and say that I don’t work for Hydra? You couldn’t pull your head out of your ass for one second and tell them that you trusted me and that was enough? Neither of you could.” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “If you really believed, even for a moment, that I worked for Hydra, do you really think I would’ve kept that from you? After everything? After all this time?”

The expression on her face was one he hadn’t seen before. He’d seen her when she was annoyed; when she was happy or excited; when she was sad; even when she was angry — but this was different.

This was heartbreak. And it cut him.

“I am so sorry.” He reached for her waist and pulled her to the space between his knees, resting his forehead against her stomach. He let out a dark laugh, “When it comes to Hydra or Zemo or any of that other bullshit, I can’t trust anything or anyone. But I do trust you.”

She was still for a moment, but then he felt her arms wrap around his neck in a tight hug. It was then that he realized that he didn’t need a title for his role in her life. She just needed him. 

“So,” she whispered, “what do you want this to be?”

“Us.”

“Yes, us.” She rolled her eyes, “What do you want us to be?”

“Us,” he repeated. “I want you and me to just be — us.”

She smiled with relief. “And Sam and Riggs.”

“And Sam and Riggs.”


	19. Chapter 19

By the end of their debriefing the next morning, it was decided that Peter Parker would be on standby, which was Fury’s way of telling them she was cleared to return to the team. Peter seemed to sigh in relief as much as Sam and Bucky before he quickly left the conference room.

“I figured you’d like to tell her the news yourself,” Fury said, dismissing them. 

“You’re getting soft, Nick,” Sam teased as he and Bucky left.

“Get out before I change my mind. And then come back for your next mission brief.” With that, they swiftly left, already knowing where’d she be. 

The sounds of gunfire grew louder as they walked toward the range, changing in speed every-so-often. “I see you trying to hide that smile,” Sam muttered.

“I’m not smiling,” Bucky lied.

“You’re,” Sam paused, “giddy.”

“Don’t ever say that to me again.”

Once they got to the range, they spotted her two agents standing off to the side, clearly annoyed, as she lay prone on the ground. As always, her guns and scopes were lined up neatly beside her. Before they could approach, she quickly reloaded and switched scopes to begin firing again.

Bucky understood the twin looks of annoyance on the agents faces. Sam scoffed, “I didn’t think it was possible, but I think she’s gotten better since we’ve met.”

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered. 

She hadn’t noticed their arrival and both of them knew better than to disrupt time on the range. “Think she’ll let up soon?” Sam asked as she reloaded again.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he side-eyed Sam. He studied his friend, noticing the gun on his hip. “I’ve got an idea,” Bucky chuckled, reaching into his jacket. Before Sam could stop him, he fired off a round into a sandbag nearly twenty feet away from her, spilling sand onto the grass. The two agents dropped to the ground for cover.

She whipped around, gun aimed at their direction with her finger on the trigger and a murderous look on her face. That expression didn’t change once she realized it was them. “Are you fucking crazy?” she shouted, springing to her feet. “I could’ve killed you!”

Bucky casually put his gun back into his jacket and marched over, leaving Sam flabbergasted. “Needed to get your attention,” he shrugged.

“I fucking have ears!” She dropped her gun to the ground and met them in the middle. Casting a sideways glance at the two agents as they helped each other up, she laughed and called to them, “Always on your toes, gents!” Turning back to look at them, she shook her head, “What is so damn important that you had to _shoot at me to get my attention?_ ”

“Good news or bad news first?” Sam asked

She hummed in thought as she decided, “Bad.”

“Bad news is,” Sam began, “we have to go back for another mission brief.”

“And you came out here because why?”

Bucky smiled, “Good news is that you also have to come back for another mission brief.”

Her brows furrowed as she processed what they were saying. “Am I cleared?”

Bucky nodded and she rushed to hug them both tightly, much to his chagrin. He’d never been forced into a group hug with Sam before and hoped it would never happen again.

She let go and turned swiftly, marching back up the path toward the Compound. “Where are you going?” Bucky called after her

“To get my dog!” she called back, “Grab my shit!”

Sam laughed once he saw Bucky’s annoyed expression. “That’s what you get for insisting on becoming her boyfriend.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he muttered as he walked over to her gear.

Thanks to the agents they’d captured on their last mission, they didn’t need the final piece of the map to find Zemo and whoever else he was working with. But they had to move quickly before news of the prisoners spread and made their work useless. Disregarding the three-day rule, Fury directed them to move out to Sokovia that same night and prepare a strike before dawn.

“You sure you’re good?” Bucky asked as they boarded the Quinjet. He hadn’t seen her since the conference room. Usually, the day of a mission was spent as a team, packing and reviewing details. However, this time she’d spent most of the afternoon away from him, preparing in solitude and only emerging at the designated time. 

She nodded half heartedly as she sat down and tucked her rifle between her knees, “I didn’t think I’d ever go back to Sokovia.”

For the first time, Bucky sat next to her and Sam took the seat on the other side. She gave them a small smile and reached for the hand that Sam was offering, leaning her head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I can do this,” she whispered.

“We know,” Sam said quietly, slouching slightly and closing his eyes. “With any luck, this’ll be the last mission for us for a while.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” she scoffed, shaking her head. Bucky turned and kissed the top of her head before closing his own eyes.

They slept for the entire flight like that, silently connected to one another and unwilling to move. When Bucky woke up, she was gone and he was holding Sam’s hand instead. Quickly, he swatted Sam away and turned in the direction of her unmistakable laughter.

“It was so cute,” she teased. “Really, just so adorable.”

“I hate you,” Bucky grunted.

She looked back down at her rifle with an amused smile. “No, you don’t,”

“No, I don’t.”

Sam stood up and reached for the comms, handing each of them one before putting his own in. “Now, I know it’s been a while, but this doesn’t get turned off. Not today.”

“Fine,” she agreed, much to their surprise. “What? Even I can grasp the concept of a difficult mission.”

“Oh, the others weren’t up to your standards of difficultly and danger?” Sam asked

She shrugged, “I’d never lost anyone at the other places.” She looked at them and rolled her eyes. “Please stop pitying me. I’m fine.”

The three of them exited the jet, letting the small team of agents they’d brought take up points along the path ahead. She didn’t say much as they walked up the path, letting the sound of their boots in the dirt fill the silence. 

“What’re you thinking?” Bucky asked in a low voice.

She shook her head and looked around, “It’s still the same.”

Sam nodded as they passed the ruins of a building that nature was beginning to reclaim. “It never recovered. Not after the Air Force, or Hydra, or Ultron.”

“Or the Avengers,” Bucky added.

“Or the Army.” She shook her head, “When you’re fighting a war, you never have to see the aftermath. You complete the mission, count your losses, and go home.”

Sam nudged her, “Then, you’re supposed to retire with zero intention of coming back.”

She laughed, “Then, what? Join a support group at the VA?”

“Hey,” Sam said defensively, “we help a lot of people there.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “Just never been my thing.” She stopped and scanned for a high point nearest to them. “We’re getting close to the coordinates. I should probably leave you guys to it.”

Sam glared at her. “Comms on. Always. And no surprises.”

“I promise nothing,” she said. She readjusted her equipment and smiled. “See you gents on the other side.”

She took a sharp turn toward the ridge and Bucky caught the sleeve of her jacket. “Hey.” He pulled her into him and kissed her, hard. “Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.”

She leaned away from him with an amused expression, “The fact the you think that’ll keep me from doing anything shows that you are actually taking all of the stupid with you.” She winked in Sam’s direction, “Careful carrying the dead weight, Wilson. And I’m not talking about the wings.” With that, she continued on her own path away from them, promising only to turn on the comm once she set up.

They watched her walk for a while before moving forward together. “You think this’ll really be it?” Bucky asked

“Why? You got plans for the rest of your life?”

“As tempting as that offer is, I won’t let you make an honest man outta me, Wilson.”

Sam stopped and stared at Bucky for a while. “Did you just crack a joke?” He shook his head, “You did, and now I know we’re gonna die.”

The comms hummed to life and her voice came through, “That was surprisingly easy.”

“Took you long enough, doll,” Bucky said.

“Nope, none of that,” Sam said. “We don’t use pet names on the communication system.”

Just then, a shot rang out and a form fell from a nearby rooftop. “You’re welcome,” she said coolly.

Sam’s jaw clenched, “Call each other whatever you want.”

She continued to provide cover as they made their way toward the base, engaging in casual conversation as she did so. Her ability to maintain focus while remaining herself always impressed and, at times, scared Bucky. His days as the cold-blooded assassin were a distant memory, but even then it was a personality separate from himself. Merging the two was a difficult task. He retained his strength and speed, but was no longer ruthless. His metal arm, once a weapon feared by all, was almost ornamental with the amount of limits that had been put on both him and Sam.

Sam placed a charge on the large metal door and ran back for cover next to Bucky, who had his gun ready for the flood of agents guaranteed to stream through the door. 

“Get down,” she hissed through the comm. “Don’t give yourselves away.”

“What?” Sam pulled Bucky down next to him as several shots rang out from overhead. They listened as over half the agents ran in the direction of the gunshots, leaving them with a much more manageable group.

The gunfire and distinct sounds of screaming continued, growing farther away as they moved toward her and way from them. Sam and Bucky shared a nod before jumping from behind their cover. 

In a mess of blood and bullets, they made their way inside. “We’re in,” Sam said exasperated. He leaned against a wall and grabbed his chest. “I need a status report, Honey.”

Bucky held his breath and flexed his arm a few times, running a hand over the sticky spots of blood that now adorned it. “Any minute now, darlin’.”

“Go! I’ve got this,” she replied, her voice straining amidst the sound of gunshots.

Sam patted Bucky on the shoulder and nodded down the hall, “Let’s finish this and go home.”

“Based on the warm welcome, I’d say we’re pretty close.”

“Guys,” she said, “not the time to celebrate.” They heard her defense outside and realized they needed to keep moving.

“What do you think Zemo’s plan is?” Sam asked quietly as they made their way through the base.

Suddenly, they heard the motor of a helicopter roar to life above them, sending them into a dead sprint in its direction. Taking the stairs two or three at a time, they tumbled through the emergency exit and onto the roof. The helicopter was only meters away.

“Get that thing out of the sky, now!” Sam yelled as he flew toward it and Bucky drew his gun and shot at it a few times. Sam took on fire but pressed on as Bucky tried to cover him.

And then, it disappeared into the night with only its motor leaving a followable trace.

“Fuck, do you see it?” Sam scrambled, landing next to Bucky.

“Do you?” Bucky snapped. He spoke into the comm. “Follow the sound.”

“On it,” she replied. They heard shots ring out before the helicopter reappeared above where she had set up. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding,” she groaned. 

“Sam,” Bucky said. In silent agreement, Sam grabbed Bucky and flew, albeit slower than either of them would’ve liked, toward her.

There were a few muzzle flashes in the distance, then, nothing.

“We’re taking on fire!” Sam exclaimed, “We’re too low and slow.”

Sam landed on the ground, unceremoniously dropping Bucky onto his face. “Status check,” Sam commanded, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

Silence.

Suddenly, a man’s voice came through the comm. “Hi, honey.”

That voice made Bucky run cold. He’d heard it before. 

_Longing._

_Rusted._

_Seventeen._

He froze in place, no longer hearing Sam’s frantic commands as his vision tunneled in.

Then, her shaky voice came through, “Daddy?”


End file.
